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I 


By  kind  permission  of  Messrs.  Macmillan 

the  Text  of  this  Comedy  is  that  of 

the  Cambridge  Edition 


THE     TEMPEST 


I 


JUL  .  '-^  '^^0 


D R AMATIS    PERSONS 


Alonso,  King  of  Naples. 

Sebastian,  his  brottier. 

Prospero,  the  right  Duke  of  Milan. 

Antonio,     his     brother,     the     usurping 

Duke  of  Milan. 
Ferdinand,  son  to  the  King  of  Naples. 
Gonzalo,  an  honest  old  Counsellor. 

Adrian,         )  ,      , 

\  Lords. 
Francisco,    ) 

Caliban,  a  savage  and  deformed  Slave. 

Trinculo,  a  Jester. 

Stephano,  a  drunken  Butler. 

Master  of  a  Ship. 

Boatswain. 

Mariners. 

Miranda,  daughter  to  Prospero. 

Ariel,  an  airy  Spirit. 

Iris, 

Ceres, 

Juno, 

Nymphs, 

Reapers, 

Other  Spirits  attending  on 
Prospero. 


presented  by 
Spirits. 


ACT  ONE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  one 

[Enter  Alonso,  Sebastian,  Antonio,  Ferdinand,  Gonzalo, 
and  others.] 

Alonso.  Good  boatswain,  have  care.  Where's  the  master? 
Play  the  men. 

Boatswain.  I  pray  now,  keep  below. 

Antonio.  "Where  is  the  master,  boatswain? 

Boatswain.  Do  you  not  hear  him?  You  mar  our  labour:  keep 
your  cabins :  you  do  assist  the  storm. 

Qonzalo.  Nay,  good,  be  patient. 

Boatswain.  When  the  sea  is.  Hence !  What  care  these 
roarers  for  the  name  of  king  ?  To  cabin :  silence  !  trouble 
us  not. 

Gonzalo.  Good,  yet  remember  whom  thou  hast  aboard. 

Boatswain.  None  that  I  more  love  than  myself.  You  are  a 
counsellor ;  if  you  can  command  these  elements  to 
silence,  and  work  the  peace  of  the  present,  we  will  not 
hand  a  rope  more ;  use  your  authority :  if  you  cannot,  give 
thanks  you  have  lived  so  long,  and  make  yourself  ready 
in  your  cabin  for  the  mischance  of  the  hour,  if  it  so  hap. 
Cheerly,  good  hearts !    Out  of  our  way,  I  say.  [Exit. 

Gonzalo.  I  have  great  comfort  from  this  fellow :  methinks  he 
hath  no  drowning  mark  upon  him ;  his  complexion  is 
perfect  gallows.  Stand  fast,  good  Fate,  to  his  hanging: 
make  the  rope  of  his  destiny  our  cable,  for  our  own  doth 
little  advantage.  If  he  be  not  born  to  be  hanged,  our  case 
is  miserable.  [Exeunt. 

[Re-enter  Boatswain.] 

Boatswain.  Down  with  the  topmast!  yare!  lower,  lower! 
Bring  her  to  try  with  main-course.  [A  cry  within.]  A 
plague  upon  this  howling!  they  are  louder  than  the 
weather  or  our  office. 

[Re-enter  Sebastian,  Antonio,  and  Gonzalo.] 

Yet  again ;  what  do  you  here  ?     Shall  we  give  o'er,  and 
drown  ?    Have  you  a  mind  to  sink  ? 
Sebastian.  A  pox  o'  your  throat,  you  bawling,  blasphemous, 
incharitable  dog !  ;? 

2  t 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Boatswain.  Work  you,  then. 

Antonio.  Hang,  cur!  hang,  you  whoreson,  insolent  noise- 
maker.     We  are  less  afraid  to  be  drowned  than  thou  art. 

Qonzalo.  I  '11  warrant  him  for  drowning ;  though  the  ship  were 
no  stronger  than  a  nutshell,  and  as  leaky  as  an  unstanched 
wench. 

Boatswain.  Lay  her  a-hold,  a-hold !  set  her  two  courses ;  off 
to  sea  again ;  lay  her  off. 


[Enter  Mariners  wet] 

Mariners.  All  lost!  to  prayers,  to  prayers!  all  lost! 
Boatswain.  What,  must  our  mouths  be  cold? 

3 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Oonzalo.  The  king  and  prince  at  prayers !  let 's  assist  them, 

For  our  case  is  as  theirs. 
Sebastian.  I  'm  out  of  patience. 

Antonio.  We  are  merely  cheated  of  our  lives  by  drunkards : 

This     wide-chapp'd     rascal,  —  would     thou     mightst     lie 
drowning 

The  washing  of  ten  tides  I 
Qonzalo.  He'll  be  hang'd  yet, 

Though  every  drop  of  water  swear  against  it, 

And  gape  at  widest  to  glut  him. 

[A  confused  noise  within :  *  Mercy  on  us ! ' — 

*We  split,  we  split!' — 'Farewell,  my  wife  and  children!' — 

'Farewell,  brother!' — 'We  split,  we  split,  we  split!'] 
Antonio.  Let's  all  sink  with  the  king. 
Sebastian.  Let's  take  leave  of  him. 

[Exeunt  Antonio  and  Sebastian. 
Oonzalo.   Now  would  I  give  a  thousand  furlongs  of  sea  for  an 

acre  of  barren  ground,  long  heath,  brown  furze,  anjrthing. 

The   wills   above   be  done!    but  I  would  fain   die   a  dry 

death.  [Exeunt. 


I 


ACT  ONE 


SCENE  TWO 


SCENE  TWO 

The  island.     Before  Prospero's  cell. 

[Enter  Prospero   and   Miranda.] 
Miranda. 

by  your  art,  my  dearest  father,  you  have 
Put  the  wild  waters  in  this  roar,  allay  them. 
The  sky,  it  seems,  would  pour  down  stinking-  pitch, 
But  that  the  sea,  mounting  to  the  welkin's  cheek. 
Dashes  the  fire  out.    O,  I  have  suffer'd 
With  those  that  I  saw  suffer  I  a  brave  vessel. 
Who  had,  no  doubt,  some  noble  creature  in  her, 
Dash'd  all  to  pieces.    O,  the  cry  did  knock 
Against  my  very  heart!    Poor  souls,  they  perish'dl 

5 


ACT  ONE  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Had  I  been  any  god  of  power,  I  would 

Have  sunk  the  sea  within  the  earth,  or  e'er 

It  should  the  good  ship  so  have  swallow'd  and 

The  fraughting  souls  within  her. 
Prospero.  Be  collected : 

No  more  amazement:  tell  your  piteous  heart 

There's  no  harm  done. 
Miranda.  O,  woe  the  day ! 

Prospero,  No  harm. 

I  have  done  nothing  but  in  care  of  thee. 

Of  thee,  my  dear  one,  thee,  my  daughter,  who 

Art  ignorant  of  what  thou  art,  not  knowing 

Of  whence  I  am,  nor  that  I  am  more  better 

Than  Prospero,  master  of  a  full  poor  cell, 

And  thy  no  greater  father. 
Miranda.  More  to  know 

Did  never  meddle  with  my  thoughts. 
Prospero.  'Tis  time 

I  should  inform  thee  farther.    Lend  thy  hand, 

And  pluck  my  magic  garment  from  me. — So: 

[Lays  down  his  mantle. 

Lie  there,  my  art.     Wipe  thou  thine  eyes ;  have  comfort. 

The  direful  spectacle  of  the  wreck,  which  touch'd 

The  very  virtue  of  compassion  in  thee, 

I  have  with  such  provision  in  mine  art 

So  safely  ordered,  that  there  is  no  soul, 

No,  not  so  much  perdition  as  an  hair 

Betid  to  any  creature  in  the  vessel 

Which  thou  heard'st  cry,  which  thou  saw'st  sink. 
Sit  down; 

For  thou  must  now  know  farther. 
Miranda.  You  have  often 

Begun  to  tell  me  what  I  am;  but  stopp'd. 

And  left  me  to  a  bootless  inquisition, 

Concluding  'Stay:  not  yet* 
Prospero.  The  hour  *s  now  come ; 

The  very  minute  bids  thee  ope  thine  ear ; 

Obey,  and  be  attentive.    Canst  thou  remember 

A  time  before  we  came  unto  this  cell? 

I  do  not  think  thou  canst,  for  then  thou  wast  not 

Out  three  years  old. 

7 


ACT  ONE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  two 

Miranda.  Certainly,  sir,  I  can. 

Prospero.   By  what?  by  any  other  house  or  person? 

Of  anything-  the  image  tell  me,  that 

Hath  kept  with  thy  remembrance. 
Miranda.  Tis  far  off, 

And  rather  like  a  dream  than  an  assurance 

That  my  remembrance  warrants.    Had  I  not 

Four  or  five  women  once  that  tended  me? 
Prospero.  Thou  hadst,  and  more,  Miranda.    But  how  is  it 

That  this  lives  in  thy  mind?    What  seest  thou  else 

In  the  dark  backward  and  abysm  of  time  ? 

If  thou  remember'st  aught  ere  thou  camest  here. 

How  thou  camest  here  thou  mayst. 
Miranda.  But  that  I  do  not 

Prospero.  Twelve  year  since,  Miranda,  twelve  year  since. 

Thy  father  was  the  Duke  of  Milan,  and 

A  prince  of  power. 
Miranda.  Sir,  are  not  you  my  father? 

Prospero.  Thy  mother  was  a  piece  of  virtue,  and 

She  said  thou  wast  my  daughter;  and  thy  father 

Was  Duke  of  Milan ;  and  his  only  heir 

A  princess,  no  worse  issued. 
Miranda.  O  the  heavens! 

What  foul  play  had  we,  that  we  came  from  thence  ? 

Or  blessed  was't  we  did? 
Prospero.  Both,  both,  my  girl : 

By  foul  play,  as  thou  say'st,  were  we  heaved  thence ; 

But  blessedly  holp  hither. 
Miranda.  O,  my  heart  bleeds 

To  think  o'  the  teen  that  I  have  turn'd  you  to, 

Which  is  from  my  remembrance !    Please  you,  farther. 
Prospero.   My  brother,  and  thy  uncle,  call'd  Antonio,— 

I  pray  thee,  mark  me,— that  a  brother  should 

Be  so  perfidious ! — he  whom,  next  thyself, 

Of  all  the  world  I  loved,  and  to  him  put 

The  manage  of  my  state ;  as  at  that  time 

Through  all  the  signories  it  was  the  first, 

And  Prospero  the  prime  duke,  being  so  reputed 

In  dignity,  and  for  the  liberal  arts 

Without  a  parallel ;  those  being  all  my  study, 

The  government  I  cast  upon  my  brother, 

8 


ACT  ONE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  two 

And  to  my  state  grew  stranger,  being  transported 
And  rapt  in  secret  studies.    Thy  false  uncle — 
Dost  thou  attend  me? 

Miranda.  Sir,  most  heedfully. 

Prospero.   Being  once  perfected  how  to  grant  suits, 
How  to  deny  them,  who  to  advance,  and  who 
To  trash  for  over-topping,  new  created 
The  creatures  that  were  mine,  I  say,  or  changed  'em, 
Or  else  new  form'd  'em ;  having  both  the  key 
Of  officer  and  office,  set  all  hearts  i'  the  state 
To  what  tune  pleased  his  ear;  that  now  he  was 
The  ivy  which  had  hid  my  princely  trunk 
And  suck'd  my  verdure  out  on 't.    Thou  attend'st  not. 

Miranda.    O,  good  sir,  I  do. 

Prospero.  I  pray  thee,  mark  me. 

I,  thus  neglecting  worldly  ends,  all  dedicated 
To  closeness  and  the  bettering  of  my  mind 
With  that  which,  but  by  being  so  retired, 
O'er-prized  all  popular  rate,  in  my  false  brother 
Awaked  an  evil  nature ;  and  my  trust. 
Like  a  good  parent,  did  beget  of  him 
A  falsehood  in  its  contrary,  as  great 
As  my  trust  was ;  which  had  indeed  no  limit, 
A  confidence  sans  bound.    He  being  thus  lorded, 
Not  only  with  what  my  revenue  yielded. 
But  what  my  power  might  else  exact,  like  one 
Who  having  into  truth,  by  telling  of  it. 
Made  such  a  sinner  of  his  memory, 
To  credit  his  own  lie,  he  did  believe 
He  was  indeed  the  duke ;  out  o'  the  substitution, 
And  executing  the  outward  face  of  royalty. 
With  all  prerogative: — hence  his  ambition  growing, — 
Dost  thou  hear? 

Miranda.  Your  tale,  sir,  would  cure  deafness. 

Prospero.  To  have  no  screen  between  this  part  he  play'd 
And  him  he  play'd  it  for,  he  needs  will  be 
Absolute  Milan.    Me,  poor  man,  my  library 
Was  dukedom  large  enough :  of  temporal  royalties 
He  thinks  me  now  incapable;  confederates, 
So  dry  he  was  for  sway,  wi'  the  King  of  Naples 
To  give  him  annual  tribute,  do  him  homage, 

10 


ACT  ONE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Subject  his  coronet  to  his  crown,  and  bend 

The  dukedom,  yet  unbow'd,— alas,  poor  Milan! — 

To  most  ignoble  stooping. 
Miranda,  O  the  heavens! 

Prospero.   Mark  his  condition,  and  the  event;  then  tell  me 

If  this  might  be  a  brother. 
Miranda.  I  should  sin 

To  think  but  nobly  of  my  grandmother: 

Good  wombs  have  borne  bad  sons. 
Prospero.  Now  the  condition. 

This  King  of  Naples,  being  an  enemy 

To  me  inveterate,  hearkens  my  brother's  suit; 

Which  was,  that  he,  in  lieu  o'  the  premises. 

Of  homage  and  I  know  not  how  much  tribute. 

Should  presently  extirpate  me  and  mine 

Out  of  the  dukedom,  and  confer  fair  Milan, 

With  all  the  honours,  on  my  brother:  whereon, 

A  treacherous  army  levied,  one  midnight 

Fated  to  the  purpose,  did  Antonio  open 

The  gates  of  Milan ;  and,  i'  the  dead  of  darkness, 

The  ministers  for  the  purpose  hurried  thence 

Me  and  thy  crying  self. 
Miranda,  Alack,  for  pity! 

I,  not  remembering  how  I  cried  out  then, 

Will  cry  it  o'er  again:  it  is  a  hint 

That  wrings  mine  eyes  to't. 
Prospero.  Hear  a  little  further. 

And  then  I  '11  bring  thee  to  the  present  business 

Which  now's  upon's;  without  the  which,  this  story 

Were  most  impertinent 
Miranda.  Wherefore  did  they  not 

That  hour  destroy  us? 
Prospero.  Well  demanded,  wench: 

My  tale  provokes  that  question.    Dear,  they  durst  not, 

So  dear  the  love  my  people  bore  me ;  nor  set 

A  mark  so  bloody  on  the  business:  but 

With  colours  fairer  painted  their  foul  ends. 

In  few,  they  hurried  us  on  board  a  bark, 

Bore  us  some  leagues  to  sea;  where  they  prepared 

A  rotten  carcass  of  a  butt,  not  rigg'd. 

Nor  tackle,  sail,  nor  mast;  the  very  rats 

II 


ACT  ONE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  two 

Instinctively  have  quit  it:  there  they  hoist  us, 

To  cry  to  the  sea  that  roar'd  to  us;  to  sigh 

To  the  winds,  whose  pity,  sighing  back  again, 

Did  us  but  loving  wrong. 
Miranda.  Alack,  what  trouble 

Was  I  then  to  you! 
Prospero.  O,  a  cherubin 

Thou  wast  that  did  preserve  me.    Thou  didst  smile, 

Infused  with  a  fortitude  from  heaven, 

When  I  have  deck'd  the  sea  with  drops  full  salt. 

Under  my  burthen  groan'd ;  which  raised  in  me 

An  undergoing  stomach,  to  bear  up 

Against  what  should  ensue. 
Miranda.  How  came  we  ashore? 

Prospero.   By  Providence  divine. 

Some  food  we  had,  and  some  fresh  water,  that 

A  noble  Neapolitan,  Gonzalo, 

Out  of  his  charity,  who  being  then  appointed 

Master  of  this  design,  did  give  us,  with 

Rich  garments,  linens,  stuffs  and  necessaries, 

Which  since  have  steaded  much ;  so,  of  his  gentleness, 

Knowing  I  loved  my  books,  he  furnish'd  me 

From  mine  own  library  with  volumes  that 

I  prize  above  my  dukedom. 
Miranda.  Would  I  might 

But  ever  see  that  man! 
Prospero.  Now  I  arise:    [Resumes  Iiis  mantle. 

Sit  still,  and  hear  the  last  of  our  sea-sorrow. 

Here  in  this  island  we  arrived ;  and  here 

Have  I,  thy  schoolmaster,  made  thee  more  profit 

Than  other  princess'  can,  that  have  more  time 

For  vainer  hours,  and  tutors  not  so  careful. 
Miranda.  Heavens  thank  you  for't!    And  now,  I  pray  you,  sir, 

For  still  'tis  beating  in  my  mind,  your  reason 

For  raising  this  sea-storm? 
Prospero.  Know  thus  far  forth. 

By  accident  most  strange,  bountiful  Fortune, 

Now  my  dear  lady,  hath  mine  enemies 

Brought  to  this  shore ;  and  by  my  prescience 

I  find  my  zenith  doth  depend  upon 

A  most  auspicious  star,  whose  influence 

12 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


If  now  I  court  not,  but  omit,  my  fortunes 
Will  ever  after  droop.     Here  cease  more  questions: 
Thou  art  inclined  to  sleep ;  'tis  a  good  dulness, 
And  give  it  way:   I  know  thou  canst  not  choose. 

[Miranda  sleeps. 
Come  away,  servant,  come.    I  am  ready  now. 
Approach,  my  Ariel,  come. 

[Enter  Ariel.] 
Ariel.  All  hail,  great  master!  grave  sir,  hail!  I  come 


To  answer  thy  best  pleasure ;  be 't  to  fly, 
To  swim,  to  dive  into  the  fire,  to  ride 
On  the  curl'd  clouds,  to  thy  strong  bidding  task 
Ariel  and  all  his  quality. 

Prospero.  Hast  thou,  spirit, 

Perform'd  to  point  the  tempest  that  I  bade  thee? 

Ariel.  To  every  article, 

I  boarded  the  king's  ship ;  now  on  the  beak, 

13 


ACT  ONE  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Now  in  the  waist,  the  deck,  in  every  cabin, 
I  flamed  amazement:  sometime  I 'Id  divide, 
And  burn  in  many  places ;  on  the  topmast, 
The  yards  and  bowsprit,  would  I  flame  distinctly, 
Then  meet  and  join.    Jove's  lightnings,  the  precursors 
O'  the  dreadful  thunder-claps,  more  momentary 
And  sight-outrunning  were  not:  the  fire  and  cracks 
Of  sulphurous  roaring  the  most  mighty  Neptune 
Seem  to  besiege,  and  make  his  bold  waves  tremble. 
Yea,  his  dread  trident  shake. 

Prospero.  My  brave  spirit! 

Who  was  so  firm,  so  constant,  that  this  coil 
Would  not  infect  his  reason? 

Ariel.  Not  a  soul 

But  felt  a  fever  of  the  mad,  and  play'd 
Some  tricks  of  desperation.    All  but  mariners 
Plunged  in  the  foaming  brine,  and  quit  the  vessel. 
Then  all  afire  with  me :  the  king's  son,  Ferdinand, 
With  hair  up-staring,— then  like  reeds,  not  hair,— 
Was  the  first  man  that  leap'd ;  cried,  '  Hell  is  empty, 
And  all  the  devils  are  here.* 

Prospero.  Why,  that's  my  spirit! 

But  was  not  this  nigh  shore? 

Ariel.  Close  by,  my  master. 

Prospero.  But  are  they,  Ariel,  safe? 

Ariel.  Not  a  hair  perish'd; 

On  their  sustaining  garments  not  a  blemish. 
But  fresher  than  before:  and,  as  thou  badest  me. 
In  troops  I  have  dispersed  them  'bout  the  isle. 
The  king's  son  have  I  landed  by  himself; 
Whom  I  left  cooling  of  the  air  with  sighs 
In  an  odd  angle  of  the  isle,  and  sitting. 
His  arms  in  this  sad  knot. 

Prospero.  Of  the  king's  ship. 

The  mariners,  say  how  thou  hast  disposed. 
And  all  the  rest  o'  the  fleet. 

Ariel.  Safely  in  harbour 

Is  the  king's  ship ;  in  the  deep  nook,  where  once 
Thou  call'dst  me  up  at  midnight  to  fetch  dew 
From  the  still- vex'd  Bermoothes,  there  she's  hid: 
The  mariners  all  under  hatches  stow'd ; 

14 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


Who,  with  a  charm  join'd  to  their  suffer'd  labour, 
I  have  left  asleep:  and  for  the  rest  o'  the  fleet, 
Which  I  dispersed,  they  all  have  met  again, 
And  are  upon  the  Mediterranean  flote, 
Bound  sadly  home  for  Naples; 
Supposing  that  they  saw  the  king's  ship  wreck'd, 
And  his  great  person  perish. 
Prospero.  Ariel,  thy  charge 

Exactly  is  perform'd:  but  there's  more  work. 
What  is  the  time  o'  the  day.> 


Ariel.  Past  the  mid  season. 

Prospero.  At  least  two  glasses.    The  time  'twixt  six  and  now 

Must  by  us  both  be  spent  most  preciously. 
Ariel.  Is  there  more  toil?    Since  thou  dost  give  me  pains, 

Let  me  remember  thee  what  thou  hast  promised, 

Which  is  not  yet  perform'd  me. 
Prospero.  How  now?  moody? 

What  is't  thou  canst  demand? 
Ariel.  My  liberty. 

Prospero.  Before  the  time  be  out?  no  more! 

15 


ACT  ONE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  two 

Ariel.  I  prithee, 

Remember  I  have  done  thee  worthy  service; 
Told  thee  no  lies,  made  thee  no  mistakings,  served 
Without  or  grudge  or  grumblings :  thou  didst  promise 
To  bate  me  a  full  year. 

Prospero.  Dost  thou  foi^et 

From  what  a  torment  I  did  free  thee? 

Ariel.  No. 

Prospero.  Thou  dost,  and  think'st  it  much  to  tread  the  ooze 
Of  the  salt  deep, 

To  run  upon  the  sharp  wind  of  the  north, 
To  do  me  business  in  the  veins  o'  the  earth 
When  it  is  baked  with  frost. 

Ariel.  I  do  not,  sir. 

Prospero.  Thou  liest,  malignant  thing  I     Hast  thou  forgot 
The  foul  witch  Sycorax,  who  with  age  and  envy 
Was  grown  into  a  hoop?  hast  thou  forgot  her? 

Ariel.  No,  sir. 

Prospero.  Thou  hast.    Where  was  she  bom  ?  speak ;  tell  me. 

Ariel.  Sir,  in  Argier. 

Prospero.  O,  was  she  so?   I  must 

Once  in  a  month  recount  what  thou  hast  been, 
Which  thou  forgett'st.    This  damn'd  witch  Sycorax, 
For  mischiefs  manifold,  and  sorceries  terrible 
To  enter  human  hearing,  from  Argier, 
Thou  know'st,  was  banish'd :  for  one  thing  she  did 
They  would  not  take  her  life.      Is  not  this  true? 

Ariel.  Ay,  sir. 

Prospero.  This  blue-eyed  hag  was  hither  brought  with  child, 
And  here  was  left  by  the  sailors.    Thou,  my  slave. 
As  thou  report'st  thyself,  wast  then  her  servant ; 
And,  for  thou  wast  a  spirit  too  delicate 
To  act  her  earthy  and  abhorr'd  commands, 
Refusing  her  grand  bests,  she  did  confine  thee. 
By  help  of  her  more  potent  ministers, 
And  in  her  most  unmitigable  rage, 
Into  a  cloven  pine ;  within  which  rift 
Imprison'd  thou  didst  painfully  remain 
A  dozen  years;  within  which  space  she  died, 
And  left  thee  there;  where  thou  didst  vent  thy  groans 
As  fast  as  mill-wheels  strike.     Then  was  this  island— 

i6 


ACT  ONE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  two 

Save  for  the  son  that  she  did  litter  here, 

A  freckled  whelp  hag-born— not  honour'd  with 

A  human  shape. 
Ariel.  Yes,  Caliban  her  son. 

Prospero.  Dull  thing",  I  say  so ;  he,  that  Caliban, 

Whom  now  I  keep  in  service.     Thou  best  know'st 

What  torment  I  did  find  thee  in ;  thy  groans 

Did  make  wolves  howl,  and  penetrate  the  breasts 

Of  ever-angry  bears :  it  was  a  torment 

To  lay  upon  the  damn'd,  which  Sycorax 

Could  not  again  undo:  it  was  mine  art. 

When  I  arrived  and  heard  thee,  that  made  gape 

The  pine,  and  let  thee  out. 
Ariel.  I  thank  thee,  master. 

Prospero.  If  thou  more  murmur'st,  I  will  rend  an  oak, 

And  peg  thee  in  his  knotty  entrails,  till 

Thou  hast  howl'd  away  twelve  winters. 
Ariel.  Pardon,  master: 

I  will  be  correspondent  to  command. 

And  do  my  spiriting  gently. 
Prospero.  Do  so ;  and  after  two  days 

I  will  discharge  thee. 
Ariel.  That's  my  noble  master! 

What  shall  I  do?  say  what;  what  shall  I  do? 
Prospero.  Go  make  thyself  like  a  nymph  o'  the  sea :  be  subject 

To  no  sight  but  thine  and  mine ;  invisible 

To  every  eyeball  else.     Go  take  this  shape, 

And  hither  come  in 't :  go,  hence  with  diligence ! 

[Exit  Ariel. 

Awake,  dear  heart,  awake !  thou  hast  slept  well ; 

Awake  1 
Miranda.     The  strangeness  of  your  story  put 

Heaviness  in  me. 
Prospero.  Shake  it  off.     Come  on; 

We'll  visit  Caliban  my  slave,  who  never 

Yields  us  kind  answer. 
Miranda.  'Tis  a  villain,  sir, 

I  do  not  love  to  look  on. 
Prospero.  But,  as  'tis. 

We  cannot  miss  him:  he  does  make  our  fire. 

Fetch  in  our  wood,  and  serves  in  offices 
B  17 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


That  profit  us.     What,  ho !  slave !  Caliban ! 

Thou  earth,  thou!  speak. 
Caliban.  [Within]  There's  wood  enough  within. 

Prospero.  Come  forth,  I  say !  there  *s  other  business  for  thee ; 

Come,  thou  tortoise!  when? 


[Re'Cnter  Ariel  lilce  a  water-nymph.} 


Fine  apparition!    My  quaint  Ariel, 

Hark  in  thine  ear. 
Ariel.  My  lord,  it  shall  be  done.  [Exit. 

Prospero.  Thou  poisonous  slave,  got  by  the  devil  himself 

Upon  thy  wicked  dam,  come  forth  1 


[Enter  Caliban.] 

Caliban.  As  wicked  dew  as  e'er  my  mother  brush'd 
With  raven's  feather  from  unwholesome  fen 
Drop  on  you  both !  a  south-west  blow  on  ye 
And  blister  you  all  o'er ! 

Prospero.  For  this,  be  sure,  to-night  thou  shalt  have  cramps, 
Side-stitches  that  shall  pen  thy  breath  up ;  urchins 
Shall,  for  that  vast  of  night  that  they  may  work, 

i8 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


All  exercise  on  thee;  thou  shalt  be  pinch'd 
As  thick  as  honeycomb,  each  pinch  more  stinging 
Than  bees  that  made  'em. 
Caliban.  I  must  eat  my  dinner. 

This  island's  mine,  by  Sycorax  my  mother, 
Which  thou  takest  from  me.     When  thou  camest  first. 
Thou  strokedst  me,  and  madest  much  of  me ;  wouldst  give  me 
Water  with  berries  in't;  and  teach  me  how 


To  name  the  bigger  light,  and  how  the  less, 
That  burn  by  day  and  night:  and  then  I  loved  thee. 
And  show'd  thee  all  the  qualities  o'  th'  isle. 
The  fresh  springs,  brine-pits,  barren  place  and  fertile: 
Cursed  be  I  that  did  so!     All  the  charms 
Of  Sycorax,  toads,  beetles,  bats,  light  on  you ! 
For  I  am  all  the  subjects  that  you  have. 
Which  first  was  mine  own  king:  and  here  you  sty  me 
In  this  hard  rock,  whiles  you  do  keep  from  me 
The  rest  o'  th'  island. 
Prospero.  Thou  most  lying  slave. 

Whom  stripes  may  move,  not  kindness !  I  have  used  thee, 
Filth  as  thou  art,  with  human  care;  and  lodged  thee 
In  mine  own  cell,  till  thou  didst  seek  to  violate 
The  honour  of  my  child. 

19 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


Caliban.  O  ho,  O  ho !  would 't  had  been  done ! 
Thou  didst  prevent  me;  I  had  peopled  else 
This  isle  with  Calibans. 
N  «*Mi?*OA^«>spero.  Abhorred  slave, 

Which  any  print  of  goodness  wilt  not  take, 

Being  capable  of  all  ill !     I  pitied  thee, 

Took  pains  to  make  thee  speak,  taught  thee  each  hour 

One  thing  or  other:  when  thou  didst  not,  savage. 

Know  thine  own  meaning,  but  wouldst  gabble  like 

A  thing  most  brutish,  I  endow'd  thy  purposes 

With  words  that  made  them  known.     But  thy  vile  race, 

Though  thou  didst  learn,  had  that  in 't  which  good  natures 

Could  not  abide  to  be  with ;  therefore  wast  thou 

Deservedly  confined  into  this  rock, 

Who  hadst  deserved  more  than  a  prison. 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


Caliban.  You  taught  me  language;  and  my  profit  on't 
Is,  I  know  how  to  curse.     The  red  plague  rid  you 
For  learning  me  your  language ! 

Prospero.  Hag-seed,  hence! 

Fetch  us  in  fuel;  and  be  quick,  thou'rt  best, 
To  answer  other  business.     Shrugg'st  thou,  malice  ? 
If  thou  neglect'st,  or  dost  unwillingly 
What  I  command,  I'll  rack  thee  with  old  cramps. 
Fill  all  thy  bones  with  aches,  make  thee  roar, 
That  beasts  shall  tremble  at  thy  din. 

Caliban.  No,  pray  thee. 

[Aside]  I  must  obey :  his  art  is  of  such  power, 
It  would  control  my  dam's  god,  Setebos, 
And  make  a  vassal  of  him. 

Prospero.  So,  slave;  hence!    [Exit  Caliban. 


t 


[Re-enter  Ariel,  invisible,  playing  and  singing; 
Ferdinand  following.] 

Ariel's  Song. 

Come  unto  these  yellow  sands, 

And  then  take  hands: 
Courtsied  when  you  have  and  kiss'd 

The  wild  waves  whist: 
Foot  it  featly  here  and  there; 
And,  sweet  sprites,  the  burthen  bear. 
Hark,  hark! 
Burthen  [dispersedly].      Bow-wow. 
Ariel.  The  watch  dogs  bark: 

Burthen  [dispersedly].      Bow-wow. 
Ariel.  Hark,  hark !     I  hear 

The  strain  of  strutting  chanticleer 
Cry,  Cock-a-diddle-dow. 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


c<r^ 


Ferdinand.  Where  should  this  music  be  ?  i'  th'  air  or  th'  earth  ? 
It  sounds  no  more:  and,  sure,  it  waits  upon 
Some  god  o'  th*  island.     Sitting  on  a  bank, 
Weeping  again  the  king  my  father's  wreck. 
This  music  crept  by  me  upon  the  waters, 
Allaying  both  their  fury  and  my  passion 
With  its  sweet  air:  thence  I  have  follow'd  it. 
Or  it  hath  drawn  me  rather.     But  'tis  gone. 
No,  it  begins  again. 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


Ariel  sings. 

Full  fathom  five  thy  father  lies; 

Of  his  bones  are  coral  made ; 
Those  are  pearls  that  were  his  eyes: 

Nothing  of  him  that  doth  fade, 
But  doth  suffer  a  sea-change 
Into  something  rich  and  strange. 
Sea-nymphs  hourly  ring  his  knell: 

Burthen:   Ding-dong 
Ariel.  Hark !  now  I  hear  them,— Ding-dong,  bell. 


ACT  ONE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Ferdinand.  The  ditty  does  remember  my  drown'd  father 

This  is  no  mortal  business,  nor  no  sound 

That  the  earth  owes: — I  hear  it  now  above  me. 
Prospero.  The  fringed  curtains  of  thine  eye  advance, 

And  say  what  thou  seest  yond. 
Miranda.  What  is't?  a  spirit? 

Lord,  how  it  looks  about !     Believe  me,  sir, 

It  carries  a  brave  form.    But  'tis  a  spirit. 
Pwspero.  No,  wench;   it  eats  and  sleeps  and  hath  such  senses 

As  we  have,  such.    This  gallant  which  thou  seest 

Was  in  the  wreck;  and,  but  he's  something  stain'd 

With  grief,  that's  beauty's  canker,  thou  mightst  call  him 

A  goodly  person :  he  hath  lost  his  fellows, 

And  strays  about  to  find  'em. 
Miranda.  I  might  call  him 

A  thing  divine;  for  nothing  natural 

I  ever  saw  so  noble. 
Prospero.  [Aside]  It  goes  on,  I  see, 

As   my   soul    prompts   it      Spirit,    fine   spirit !      I  '11    free 
thee 

Within  two  days  for  this. 
Ferdinand.  Most  sure,  the  goddess 

On  whom  these  airs  attend!     Vouchsafe  my  prayer 

May  know  if  you  remain  upon  this  island ; 

And  that  you  will  some  good  instruction  give 

How  I  may  bear  me  here :  my  prime  request. 

Which  I  do  last  pronounce,  is,  O  you  wonder! 

If  you  be  maid  or  no? 
Miranda.  No  wonder,  sir; 

But  certainly  a  maid. 
Ferdinand.  My  language!    heavens! 

I  am  the  best  of  them  that  speak  this  speech, 

Were  I  but  where  'tis  spoken. 
Prospero.  How?  the  best? 

What  wert  thou,  if  the  King  of  Naples  heard  thee  ? 
Ferdinand.  A  single  thing,  as  I  am  now,  that  wonders 

To  hear  thee  speak  of  Naples.     He  does  hear  me ; 

And  that  he  does  I  weep :   myself  am  Naples, 

Who  with  mine  eyes,  never  since  at  ebb,  beheld 

The  king  my  father  wreck'd. 
Miranda.  Alack,  for  mercy! 

26 


ACT  ONE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Ferdinand.  Yes,  faith,  and  all  his  lords;  the  Duke  of  Milan 

And  his  brave  son  being  twain. 
Prospero.  [Aside]  The  Duke  of  Milan 

And  his  more  braver  daughter  could  control  thee. 

If  now  'twere  fit  to  do 't.     At  the  first  sight 

They  have  changed  eyes.      Delicate  Ariel, 

I'll  set  thee  free  for  this.  [To  Ferdinand.]  A  word,  good  sir; 

I  fear  you  have  done  yourself  some  wrong :  a  word. 
Miranda.  Why  speaks  my  father  so  ungently?     This 

Is  the  third  man  that  e'er  I  saw ;  the  first 

That  e'er  I  sighed  for :  pity  move  my  father 

To  be  inclined  my  way! 
Ferdinand.  O,  if  a  virgin. 

And  your  affection  not  gone  forth,  I  '11  make  you 

The  queen  of  Naples. 
Prospero.  Soft,  sir!  one  word  more. 

[Aside]  They  are  both  in  either's  powers :  but  this  swift  business 

I  must  uneasy  make,  lest  too  light  winning 

Make    the    prize    light.    [To  Ferdinand.]    One    word   more ; 
I  charge  thee 

That  thou  attend  me :  thou  dost  here  usurp 

The  name  thou  owest  not;  and  hast  put  thyself 

Upon  this  island  as  a  spy,  to  win  it 

From  me,  the  lord  on't. 
Ferdinand.  No,  as  I  am  a  man. 

Miranda.  There's  nothing  ill  can  dwell  in  such  a  temple: 

If  the  ill  spirit  have  so  fair  a  house, 

Good  things  will  strive  to  dwell  with't. 
Prospero.  Follow  me. 

Speak  not  you  for  him  ;  he 's  a  traitor.     Come ; 

I  '11  manacle  thy  neck  and  feet  together : 

Sea-water  shalt  thou  drink :  thy  food  shall  be 

The  fresh-brook  muscles,  wither'd  roots,  and  husks 

Wherein  the  acorn  cradled.     Follow. 
Ferdinand.  No ; 

I  will  resist  such  entertainment  till 

Minfe  enemy  has  more  power. 

[Draws,  and  is  cliarmed  from  moving. 
Miranda.  O  dear  father, 

Make  not  too  rash  a  trial  of  him,  for 

He's  gentle,  and  not  fearful. 

27 


ACT  ONE  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Prospero.  What!     I  say, 

My  foot  my  tutor?    Put  thy  sword  up,  traitor; 

Who  makest  a  show,  but  darest  not  strike,  thy  conscience 

Is  so  possess'd  with  guilt :  come  from  thy  ward ; 

For  I  can  here  disarm  thee  with  this  stick 

And  make  thy  weapon  drop. 
Miranda.  Beseech  you,  father. 

Prospero.  Hence !  hang  not  on  my  garments. 
Miranda.  Sir,  have  pity; 

I'll  be  his  surety. 
Prospero.  Silence!  one  word  more 

Shall  make  me  chide  thee,  if  not  hate  thee.      What ! 

An  advocate  for  an  impostor !  hush ! 

Thou  think'st  there  is  no  more  such  shapes  as  he, 

Having  seen  but  him  and  Caliban :  foolish  wench ! 

To  the  most  of  men  this  is  a  Caliban, 

And  they  to  him  are  angels. 
Miranda.  My  affections 

Are,  then,  most  humble ;  I  have  no  ambition 

To  see  a  goodlier  man. 
Prospero.  Come  on;  obey: 

Thy  nerves  are  in  their  infancy  again. 

And  have  no  vigour  in  them. 
Ferdinand.  So  they  are  : 

My  spirits,  as  in  a  dream,  are  all  bound  up. 

My  father's  loss,  the  weakness  which  I  feel. 

The  wreck  of  all  my  friends,  nor  this  man's  threats. 

To  whom  I  am  subdued,  are  but  light  to  me. 

Might  I  but  through  my  prison  once  a  day 

Behold  this  maid:  all  corners  else  o'  th'  earth 

Let  liberty  make  use  of;  space  enough 

Have  I  in  such  a  prison. 
Prospero.  [Aside]    It    works.      [To    Ferdinand.]      Come 

on. 

Thou  hast  done  well,  fine  Ariel!     [To  Ferdinand.]     Follow 
me. 

[To  Ariel.]  Hark  what  thou  else  shalt  do  me. 
Miranda.  Be  of  comfort ; 

My  father 's  of  a  better  nature,  sir, 

Than  he  appears  by  speech :  this  is  unwonted 

Which  now  came  from  him. 

30 


ACT  ONE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


Prospero.  Thou  shalt  be  as  free 

As  mountain  winds :  but  then  exactly  do 

All  points  of  my  command. 
^^«^-  To  the  syllable. 

Prospero.  Come,  follow.     Speak  not  for  him.  [Exeunt. 


31 


'-^-\^~-^—-^- 


ACT  TWO 


SCENE  ONE 


Another  part  of  the  island. 

[Eater  Alonso,  Sebastian,  Antonio,  Gonzalo, 
Adrian,  Francisco,  and  otliers.] 

Qonzalo. 

eseech  you,  sir,  be  merry;   you  have  cause, 
So  have  we  all,  of  joy;  for  our  escape 
Is  much  beyond  our  loss.    Our  hint  of  woe 
Is  common ;  every  day,  some  sailor's  wife, 
The  masters  of  some  merchant,  and  the  merchant, 
Have  just  our  theme  of  woe  ;  but  for  the  miracle, 
I  mean  our  preservation,  few  in  millions 
Can  speak  like  us :   then  wisely,  good  sir,  weigh 
Our  sorrow  with  our  comfort. 
34 


ACT  TWO  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

Alonso.  Prithee,  peace. 

Sebastian.  He  receives  comfort  like  cold  porridge. 

Antonio.  The  visitor  will  not  give  him  o'er  so. 

Sebastian.  Look,  he 's  winding  up  the  watch  of  his  wit ;  by  and 

by  it  v^/^ill  strike. 
Qonzalo.  Sir, — 
Sebastian.  One :  tell. 
Qonzalo.  When  every  grief  is  entertain'd  that 's  offer'd, 

Comes  to  the  entertainer— 
Sebastian.  A  dollar. 
Gonzalo.  Dolour  comes  to  him,  indeed ;  you  have  spoken  truer 

than  you  purposed. 
Sebastian.  You  have  taken  it  wiselier  than  I  meant  you  should. 
Qonzalo.  Therefore,  my  lord, — 

Antonio.  Fie,  what  a  spendthrift  is  he  of  his  tongue ! 
Alonso.  I  prithee,  spare. 
Gonzalo.  Well,  I  have  done:  but  yet, — 
Sebastian.  He  will  be  talking. 
Antonio.  Which,  of  he  or  Adrian,  for  a  good  wager,  first  begins 

to  crow? 
Sebastian.  The  old  cock. 
Antonio.  The  cockerel. 
Sebastian.  Done.    The  wager? 
Antonio.  A  laughter. 
Sebastian.  A  match  1 

Adrian.  Though  this  island  seem  to  be  desert, — 
Sebastian.  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! — So,  you  're  paid. 
Adrian.  Uninhabitable,  and  almost  inaccessible, — 
Sebastian.  Yet, — 
Adrian.  Yet, — 

Antonio.  He  could  not  miss't. 
Adrian.    It    must    needs    be    of    subtle,    tender    and    delicate 

temperance. 
Antonio.  Temperance  was  a  delicate  wench. 
Sebastian.  Ay,  and  a  subtle ;  as  he  most  learnedly  delivered. 
Adrian.  The  air  breathes  upon  us  here  most  sweetly. 
Sebastian.  As  if  it  had  lungs,  and  rotten  ones. 
Antonio.  Or  as  'twere  perfumed  by  a  fen. 
Gonzalo.  Here  is  everything  advantageous  to  life. 
Antonio.  True;  save  means  to  live. 
Sebastian.   Of  that  there 's  none,  or  little. 

35 


ACT  TWO 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Oonzalo.  How  lush  and  lusty  the  grass  looks  I  how  green ! 

Antonio.  The  ground,  indeed,  is  tawny. 

Sebastian.  "With  an  eye  of  green  in 't. 

Antonio.  He  misses  not  much. 

Sebastian.  No ;  he  doth  but  mistake  the  truth  totally. 

Gonzalo.  But  the  rarity  of  it  is, — which  is  indeed  almost  beyond 

credit, — 
Sebastian.  As  many  vouched  rarities  are. 
Gonzalo.  That  our  garments,  being,  as  they  were,  drenched  in 

the  sea,  hold,  notwithstanding,  their  freshness  and  glosses, 

being  rather  new-dyed  than  stained  with  salt  water. 
Antonio.  If  but  one  of  his  pockets  could  speak,  would  it  not 

say  he  lies? 
Sebastian.  Ay,  or  very  falsely  pocket  up  his  report. 
Gonzalo.  Methinks  our  garments  are  now  as  fresh  as  when  we 

put  them   on   first  in  Afric,  at  the  marriage  of  the  king's 

fair  daughter  Claribel  to  the  King  of  Tunis. 
Sebastian.  'Twas  a  sweet  marriage,  and  we  prosper  well  in  our 

return. 

30 


1 


ACT  TWO 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Adrian.  Tunis  was  never  graced  before  with  such  a  paragon 

to  their  queen. 
Gonzalo.  Not  since  widov/  Dido's  time. 
Antonio.    Widow!  a  pox  o'  that!     How  came  that  widow  in? 

widow  Dido! 
Sebastian.  What  if  he  had  said  'widower  ^Eneas'  too?    Good 

Lord,  how  you  take  it  I 
Adrian.  *  Widow  Dido '  said  you  ?  you  make  me  study  of  that : 

she  was  of  Carthage,  not  of  Tunis. 
Gonzalo.  This  Tunis,  sir,  was  Carthage. 
Adrian.  Carthage? 
Gonzalo.  I  assure  you,  Carthage. 
Antonio.  His  word  is  more  than  the  miraculous  harp. 
Sebastian.  He  hath  raised  the  wall,  and  houses  too. 
Antonio.  What  impossible  matter  will  he  make  easy  next? 
Sebastian.  I  think  he  will  carry  this  island  home  in  his  pocket, 

and  give  it  his  son  for  an  apple. 
Antonio.  And,  sowing  the  kernels  of  it  in  the  sea,  bring  forth 

more  islands. 
Gonzalo.  Ay. 

37 


ACT  TWO  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

Antonio.  Why,  in  good  time. 

Qonzalo.  Sir,  we  were  talking  that  our  garments  seem  now  as 

fresh  as  when  we  were  at  Tunis  at  the  marriage  of  your 

daughter,  who  is  now  queen. 
Antonio.  And  the  rarest  that  e'er  came  there. 
Sebastian.  Bate,  I  beseech  you,  widow  Dido. 
Antonio.  O,  widow  Dido  !   ay,  widow  Dido. 
Gonzalo.    Is  not,  sir,  my  doublet  as  fresh  as  the  first  day    I 

wore  it?    I  mean,  in  a  sort 
Antonio.  That  sort  was  well  fished  for. 
Gonzalo.  When  I  wore  it  at  your  daughter's  marriage? 
Alonso.  You  cram  these  words  into  mine  ears  against 

The  stomach  of  my  sense.    Would  I  had  never 

Married  my  daughter  there!  for,  coming  thence. 

My  son  is  lost,  and,  in  my  rate,  she  too, 

Who  is  so  far  from  Italy  removed, 

I  ne'er  again  shall  see  her.    O  thou  mine  heir 

Of  Naples  and  of  Milan,  what  strange  fish 

Hath  made  his  meal  on  thee? 
Francisco.  Sir,  he  may  live: 

I  saw  him  beat  the  surges  under  him, 

And  ride  upon  their  backs;  he  trod  the  water. 

Whose  enmity  he  flung  aside,  and  breasted 

The  surge  most  swoln  that  met  him  ;  his  bold  head 

'Bove  the  contentious  waves  he  kept,  and  oar'd 

Himself  with  his  good  arms  in  lusty  stroke 

To  the  shore,  that  o'er  his  wave-worn  basis  bow'd, 

As  stooping  to  relieve  him :   I  not  doubt 

He  came  alive  to  land. 
Alonso.  No,  no,  he's  gone. 

Sebastian.  Sir,  you  may  thank  yourself  for  this  great  loss, 

That  would  not  bless  our  Europe  with  your  daughter. 

But  rather  lose  her  to  an  African ; 

Where  she,  at  least,  is  banish'd  from  your  eye. 

Who  hath  cause  to  wet  the  grief  on 't. 
Alonso.  Prithee,  peace. 

Sebastian.  You  were  kneel'd  to,  and  importuned  otherwise. 

By  all  of  us ;  and  the  fair  soul  herself 

Weigh'd  between  loathness  and  obedience,  at 

Which  end  o'  the  beam  should  bov/.     We  have  lost  your 
son, 

38 


ACT  TWO  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

I  fear,  for  ever:  Milan  and  Naples  have 

Mo  widows  in  them  of  this  business'  making 

Than  we  bring-  men  to  comfort  them: 

The  fault's  your  own. 
Alonso.  So  is  the  dear'st  o'  the  loss. 

Gonzalo.   My  lord  Sebastian, 

The  truth  you  speak  doth  lack  some  gentleness, 

And  time  to  speak  it  in:  you  rub  the  sore, 

"When  you  should  bring  the  plaster. 
Sebastian.  Very  well. 

Antonio.   And  most  chirurgeonly. 
Gonzalo.   It  is  foul  weather  in  us  all,  good  sir, 

When  you  are  cloudy. 
Sebastian.  Foul  weather  ? 

Antonio.  Very  foul, 

Gonzalo.   Had  I  plantation  of  this  isle,  my  lord, — 
Antonio.   He 'Id  sow't  with  nettle-seed. 

Sebastian.  Or  docks,  or  mallows. 

Gonzalo.  And  were  the  king  on 't,  what  would  I  do  ? 
Sebastian.   'Scape  being  drunk  for  want  of  wine. 
Gonzalo.   I'  the  commonwealth  I  would  by  contraries 

Execute  all  things ;  for  no  kind  of  traffic 

Would  I  admit ;  no  name  of  magistrate ; 

Letters  should  not  be  known ;  riches,  poverty. 

And  use  of  service,  none ;  contract,  succession, 

Bourn,  bound  of  land,  tilth,  vineyard,  none ; 

No  use  of  metal,  corn,  or  wine,  or  oil ; 

No  occupation  ;  all  men  idle,  all ; 

And  women  too,  but  innocent  and  pure ; 

No  sovereignty; — 
Sebastian.  Yet  he  would  be  king  on't. 

Antonio.  The  latter  end  of  his  commonwealth  forgets  the 

beginning. 
Gonzalo.  All  things  in  common  nature  should  produce 

Without  sweat  or  endeavour :  treason,  felony, 

Sword,  pike,  knife,  gun,  or  need  of  any  engine. 

Would  I  not  have ;  but  nature  should  bring  forth. 

Of  its  own  kind,  all  foison,  all  abundance. 

To  feed  my  innocent  people. 
Sebastian.   No  marrying  *mong  his  subjects? 
Antonio.   None,  man;  all  idle;  whores  and  knaves. 

39 


ACT  TWO  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

Qonzalo.   I  would  with  such  perfection  govern,  sir, 

To  excel  the  golden  age. 
Sebastian.  'Save  his  majesty! 

Antonio.  Long  live  Gonzalo ! 

Gonzalo.  And, — do  you  mark  me,  sir? 

Alonso.   Prithee,  no  more :  thou  dost  talk  nothing  to  me. 
Gonzalo.   I  do  well  believe  your  highness ;  and  did  it  to  minister 

occasion  to  these  gentlemen,  who  are  of  such  sensible  and 

nimble  lungs  that  they  always  use  to  laugh  at  nothing. 
Antonio.   'Twas  you  we  laughed  at. 
Qonzalo.   Who   in  this  kind  of  merry  fooling  am  nothing  to 

you:  so  you  may  continue,  and  laugh  at  nothing  still. 
Antonio.  What  a  blow  was  there  given! 
Sebastian.   An  it  had  not  fallen  flat-long. 
Gonzalo.   You  are  gentlemen  of  brave  metal ;  you  would  lift 

the  moon  out  of  her  sphere,  if  she  would  continue  in  it 

five  v/eeks  without  changing. 

[Enter  Artel  (invisible)  playing  solemn  music] 

Sebastian.  We  would  so,  and  then  go  a  bat-fowling. 
Antonio.    Nay,  good  my  lord,  be  not  angry. 
Gonzalo.   No,   I  warrant  you;    I    will   not   adventure   my  dis- 
cretion so  weakly.     Will  you   laugh  me  asleep,  for  I  am 

very  heavy? 
Antonio.   Go  sleep,  and  hear  us. 

[All  sleep  except  Alonso,  Sebastian,  and  Antonio. 
Alonso.  What,  all  so  soon  asleep !    I  wish  mine  eyes 

Would,  with  themselves,  shut  up  my  thoughts:  I  find 

They  are  inclined  to  do  so. 
Sebastian.  Please  you,  sir, 

Do  not  omit  the  heavy  offer  of  it : 

It  seldom  visits  sorrow;  when  it  doth, 

It  is  a  comforter. 
Antonio.  We  two,  my  lord. 

Will  guard  your  person  while  you  take  your  rest, 

And  watch  your  safety. 
Alonso.  Thank  you. — ^Wondrous  heavy. 

[Alonso  sleeps.     Exit  Artel. 
Sebastian.  What  a  strange  drowsiness  possesses  them! 
Antonio.   It  is  the  quality  o'  the  climate. 

40 


ACT  TWO 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Sebastian,  Why 

Doth  it  not  then  our  eyelids  sink?    I  find  not 

Myself  disposed  to  sleep. 
Antonio.  Nor  I ;  my  spirits  are  nimble. 

They  fell  together  all,  as  by  consent ; 

They  dropp'd,  as  by  a  thunder-stroke.    What  might, 

Worthy  Sebastian  ?— O,  what  might  ?— No  more  :— 

And  yet  methinks  I  see  it  in  thy  face, 

What  thou  shouldst  be :  the  occasion  speaks  thee ;  and 

My  strong  imagination  sees  a  crown 

Dropping  upon  thy  head. 
Sebastian.  What,  art  thou  waking? 


1 

i 

3 

> 

fe 
g 

d 

n 

mi 

fe 

Antonio.   Do  you  not  hear  me  speak? 

Sebastian.  I  do  ;  and  surely 

It  is  a  sleepy  language,  and  thou  speak'st 

Out  of  thy  sleep.    What  is  it  thou  didst  say  ? 

This  is  a  strange  repose,  to  be  asleep 

With  eyes  wide  open ;  standing,  speaking,  moving. 

And  yet  so  fast  asleep. 
Antonio.  Noble  Sebastian, 

Thou  lett'st  thy  fortune  sleep— die,  rather ;  wink'st 

Whiles  thou  art  waking. 
Sebastian.  Thou  dost  snore  distinctly; 

There's  meaning  in  thy  snores. 

41 


ACT  TWO  THE  TEMPEST  scene  one 

Antonio.   I  am  more  serious  than  my  custom :  you 

Must  be  so  too,  if  heed  me ;  which  to  do 

Trebles  thee  o'er. 
Sebastian.  Well,  I  am  standing  water. 

Antonio.   I  '11  teach  you  how  to  flow. 
Sebastian.  Do  SO:   to  ebb 

Hereditary  sloth  instructs  me. 
Antonio.  O, 

If  you  but  knew  how  you  the  purpose  cherish 

Whiles  thus  you  mock  it  1  how,  in  stripping  it, 

You  more  invest  it !     Ebbing  men,  indeed, 

Most  often  do  so  near  the  bottom  run 

By  their  own  fear  or  sloth. 
Sebastian.  Prithee,  say  on: 

The  setting  of  thine  eye  and  cheek  proclaim 

A  matter  from  thee ;   and  a  birth,  indeed, 

Which  throes  thee  much  to  yield. 
Antonio.  Thus,  sir: 

Although  this  lord  of  weak  remembrance,  this. 

Who  shall  be  of  as  little  memory 

When  he  is  earth'd,  hath  here  almost  persuaded, — 

For  he 's  a  spirit  of  persuasion,  only 

Professes  to  persuade, — the  king  his  son 's  alive, 

'Tis  as  impossible  that  he's  undrown'd 

As  he  that  sleeps  here  swims. 
Sebastian.  I  have  no  hope 

That  he's  undrown'd. 
Antonio.  O,  out  of  that  *  no  hope ' 

What  great  hope  have  you !  no  hope  that  way  is 

Another  way  so  high  a  hope  that  even 

Ambition  cannot  pierce  a  wink  beyond, 

But  doubt  discovery  there.    Will  you  grant  with  me 

That  Ferdinand  is  drown'd? 
Sebastian.  He's  gone. 

Antonio.  Then,  tell  me, 

Who 's  the  next  heir  of  Naples  ? 
Sebastian.  Claribel. 

Antonio.  She  that  is  queen  of  Tunis ;  she  that  dwells 

Ten  leagues  beyond  man's  life ;  she  that  from  Naples 

Can  have  no  note,  unless  the  sun  were  post, — 

The  man  i'  the  moon 's  too  slow,— till  new-born  chins 

42 


ACT  TWO  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

Be  rough  and  razorable;  she  that  from  whom 
We  all  were  sea-swallow'd,  though  some  cast  again, 
And  by  that  destiny,  to  perform  an  act 
Whereof  what 's  past  is  prologue  ;  what  to  come, 
In  yours  and  my  discharge. 

Sebastian.  What  stuff  is  this  1   how  say  you  ? 

Tis  true,  my  brother's  daughter 's  queen  of  Tunis ; 
So  is  she  heir  of  Naples ;  'twixt  which  regions 
There  is  some  space. 

Antonio.  A  space  whose  every  cubit 

Seems  to  cry  out,  '  How  shall  that  Claribel 
Measure  us  back  to  Naples?    Keep  in  Tunis, 
And  let  Sebastian  wake.'    Say,  this  were  death 
That  now  hath  seized  them ;  why,  they  were  no  worse 
Than  now  they  are.     There  be  that  can  rule  Naples 
As  well  as  he  that  sleeps ;  lords  that  can  prate 
As  amply  and  unnecessarily 
As  this  Gonzalo ;  I  myself  could  make 
A  chough  of  as  deep  chat.    O,  that  you  bore 
The  mind  that  I  do !  what  a  sleep  were  this 
For  your  advancement !    Do  you  understand  me  ? 

Sebastian.    Methinks  I  do. 

Antonio.  And  how  does  your  content 

Tender  your  own  good  fortune  ? 

Sebastian.  I  remember 

You  did  supplant  your  brother  Prospero. 

Antonio.  True : 

And  look  how  well  my  garments  sit  upon  me; 
Much  feater  than  before :  my  brother's  servants 
Were  then  my  fellows ;  now  they  are  my  men. 

Sebastian.   But,  for  your  conscience. 

Antonio.  Ay,  sir ;  where  lies  that  ?  if  'twere  a  kibe 
'Twould  put  me  to  my  slipper:  but  I  feel  not 
This  deity  in  my  bosom :  twenty  consciences, 
That  stand  'twixt  me  and  Milan,  candied  be  they. 
And  melt,  ere  they  molest !    Here  lies  your  brother. 
No  better  than  the  earth  he  lies  upon, 
If  he  were  that  which  now  he 's  like,  that 's  dead ; 
Whom  I,  with  this  obedient  steel,  three  inches  of  it. 
Can  lay  to  bed  for  ever ;  whiles  you,  doing  thus 
To  the  perpetual  wink  for  aye  might  put 

43 


^^^-^(. 


ACT  TWO  THE  TEMPEST  scene  one 

This  ancient  morsel,  this  Sir  Prudence,  who 
Should  not  upbraid  our  course.    For  all  the  rest, 
They  '11  take  suggestion  as  a  cat  laps  milk ; 
They'll  tell  the  clock  to  any  business  that 
We  say  befits  the  hour. 

Sebastian.  Thy  case,  dear  friend, 

Shall  be  my  precedent;  as  thou  gott'st  Milan, 
I'll  come  by  Naples.    Draw  thy  sword:  one  stroke 
Shall  free  thee  from  the  tribute  which  thou  payest ; 
And  I  the  king  shall  love  thee. 

Antonio.  Draw  together; 

And  when  I  rear  my  hand,  do  you  the  like. 
To  fall  it  on  Gonzalo. 

Sebastian.  O,  but  one  word.     [They  talk  apart. 

[Re-enter  Ariel,  invisible,'^ 

Ariel.  My  master  through  his  art  foresees  the  danger 
That  you,  his  friend,  are  in ;  and  sends  me  forth, — 
For  else  his  project  dies, — to  keep  them  living. 

[Sings  in  Gonzalo* s  ear. 
While  you  here  do  snoring  lie, 
Open-eyed  conspiracy 

His  time  doth  take. 
If  of  life  you  keep  a  care, 
Shake  off  slumber  and  beware : 
Awake,  awake ! 
Antonio.  Then  let  us  both  be  sudden. 
Gonzalo.  Now,  good  angels 

Preserve  the  king!  [They  wake. 

Alonzo.  Why,  how  now?  ho,  awake!— Why  are  you  drawn? 

Wherefore  this  ghastly  looking? 
Gonzalo.  What's  the  matter? 

Sebastian.  Whiles  we  stood  here  securing  your  repose, 
Even  now,  we  heard  a  hollow  burst  of  bellowing 
Like  bulls,  or  rather  lions:  did't  not  wake  you? 
It  struck  mine  ear  most  terribly. 
Alonso.  1  heard  nothing. 

Antonio.  O,  'twas  a  din  to  fright  a  monster's  ear. 
To  make  an  earthquake!  sure,  it  was  the  roar 
Of  a  whole  herd  of  lions. 

45 


ACT  TWO 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Alonso.  Heard  you  this,  Gonzalo? 

Gonzalo.  Upon  mine  honour,  sir,  I  heard  a  humming, 
And  that  a  strange  one  too,  which  did  awake  me: 
I  shaked  you,  sir,  and  cried:  as  mine  eyes  open'd, 
I  saw  their  weapons  drawn : — there  was  a  noise. 
That's  verily.    Tis  best  we  stand  upon  our  guard. 
Or  that  we  quit  this  place:  let's  draw  our  weapons. 

Alonso.  Lead  off  this  ground ;  and  let 's  make  further  search 
For  my  poor  son. 

Gonzalo.  Heavens  keep  him  from  these  beasts! 

For  he  is,  sure,  i'  th'  island. 

Alonso.  Lead  away. 

Ariel.  Prosper©  my  lord  shall  know  what  I  have  done: 

So,  king,  go  safely  on  to  seek  thy  son.  [Exeunt. 


40 


1^  trincijlq;;^ 


SCENE  TWO 

Another  part  of  the  island. 

[Enter  Caliban  with  a  burden  of  wood.     A  noise  of  tliunder  heard.] 

Caliban.  All  the  infections  that  the  sun  sucks  up 

From  bogs,  fens,  flats,  on  Prosper  fall,  and  make  him 

By  inch-meal  a  disease !  his  spirits  hear  me. 

And  yet  I  needs  must  curse.    But  they'll  nor  pinch. 

Fright  me  with  urchin-shows,  pitch  me  i'  the  mire. 

Nor  lead  me,  like  a  firebrand,  in  the  dark 

Out  of  my  way,  unless  he  bid  'em :  but 

For  every  trifle  are  they  set  upon  me; 

Sometime  like  apes,  that  mow  and  chatter  at  me, 

And  after  bite  me ;  then  like  hedgehogs,  which 

Lie  tumbling  in  my  barefoot  way,  and  mount 

Their  pricks  at  my  footfall ;  sometime  am  I 

All  wound  with  adders,  who  with  cloven  tongues 

Do  hiss  me  into  madness. 

[Enter  Trinculo.] 

Lo,  now,  lo! 
Here  comes  a  spirit  of  his,  and  to  torment  me 

47 


ACT  TWO  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

For  bringing  wood  in  slowly.  I  '11  fall  flat ; 
Perchance  he  will  not  mind  me. 
Trinculo.  Here's  neither  bush  nor  shrub,  to  bear  off  any 
weather  at  all,  and  another  storm  brewing;  I  hear  it  sing 
i*  the  wind :  yond  same  black  cloud,  yond  huge  one,  looks 
like  a  foul  bombard  that  would  shed  his  liquor.  If  it 
should  thunder  as  it  did  before,  I  know  not  where  to  hide 
my  head:  yond  same  cloud  cannot  choose  but  fall  by  pail- 
fuls.  What  have  we  here?  a  man  or  a  fish?  dead  or 
alive  ?  A  fish :  he  smells  like  a  fish ;  a  very  ancient  and 
fish-like  smell;  a  kind  of  not  of  the  newest  Poor-John. 
A  strange  fish!  "Were  I  in  England  now,  as  once  I  was, 
and  had  but  this  fish  painted,  not  a  holiday  fool  there 
but  would  give  a  piece  of  silver :  there  would  this  monster 
make  a  man;  any  strange  beast  there  makes  a  man: 
when  they  will  not  give  a  doit  to  relieve  a  lame  beggar, 
they  will  lay  out  ten  to  see  a  dead  Indian.  Legged  like 
a  man !  and  his  fins  like  arms  I  Warm  o'  my  troth !  I  do 
now  let  loose  my  opinion ;  hold  it  no  longer :  this  is  no 
fish,  but  an  islander,  that  hath  lately  suffered  by  a  thunder- 
bolt. [Thunder.^  Alas,  the  storm  is  come  again!  my  best 
way  is  to  creep  under  his  gaberdine ;  there  is  no  other  shelter 
hereabout :  misery  acquaints  a  man  with  strange  bed-fellows. 
I  will  here  shroud  till  the  dregs  of  the  storm  be  past. 

[Enter  Stephana,  singing:  a  bottle  in  his  hand.] 

Stephana.  I  shall  no  more  to  sea,  to  sea, 

Here  shall  I  die  a-shore, — 
This  is  a  very  scurvy  tune  to  sing  at  a  man's  funeral : 
well,  here's  my  comfort.  [Drinks, 

[Sings. 
The  master,  the  swabber,  the  boatswain,  and  I, 

The  gunner,  and  his  mate. 
Loved  Moll,  Meg,  and  Marian,  and  Margery, 
But  none  of  us  cared  for  Kate ; 
For  she  had  a  tongue  with  a  tang. 
Would  cry  to  a  sailor.  Go  hang! 
She  loved  not  the  savour  of  tar  nor  of  pitch ; 
Yet  a  tailor  might  scratch  her  where'er  she  did  itch. 
Then,  to  sea,  boys,  and  let  her  go  hang! 
This  is  a  scurvy  tune  too :  but  here 's  my  comfort.  [Drinks. 

48 


ACT  TWO  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Caliban.  Do  not  torment  me  : — O  ! 

Stephana.  What's  the  matter?  Have  we  devils  here?  Do 
you  put  tricks  upon's  with  salvages  and  men  of  Ind,  ha? 
I  have  not  scaped  drowning",  to  be  afeard  now  of  your 
four  legs ;  for  it  hath  been  said,  As  proper  a  man  as  ever 
went  on  four  legs  cannot  make  him  give  ground;  and 
it  shall  be  said  so  again,  while  Stephano  breathes  at 
nostrils. 

Caliban.  The  spirit  torments  me. — O! 

Stepiiano.  This  is  some  monster  of  the  isle  with  four  legs,  who 
hath  got,  as  I  take  it,  an  ague.  Where  the  devil  should  he 
learn  our  language?  I  will  give  him  some  relief,  if  it  be 
but  for  that.  If  I  can  recover  him,  and  keep  him  tame, 
and  get  to  Naples  with  him,  he's  a  present  for  any 
emperor  that  ever  trod  on  neat's-leather. 

Caliban.  Do  not  torment  me,  prithee ;  I  '11  bring  my  wood  home 
faster. 

Stephano.  He's  in  his  fit  now,  and  does  not  talk  after  the 
wisest.  He  shall  taste  of  my  bottle:  if  he  have  never 
drunk  wine  afore,  it  will  go  near  to  remove  his  fit.  If  I 
can  recover  him,  and  keep  him  tame,  I  will  not  take  too 
much  for  him;  he  shall  pay  for  him  that  hath  him,  and 
that  soundly. 

Caliban.  Thou  dost  me  yet  but  little  hurt ;  thou  wilt  anon,  I 
know  it  by  thy  trembling:  now  Prosper  works  upon 
thee. 

Stephano.  Come  on  your  ways ;  open  your  mouth ;  here  is 
that  which  will  give  language  to  you,  cat :  open  your 
mouth ;  this  will  shake  your  shaking,  I  can  tell  you,  and 
that  soundly:  you  cannot  tell  who's  your  friend:  open 
your  chaps  again. 

Trinculo.  I  should  know  that  voice:  it  should  be— but  he  is 
drowned;  and  these  are  devils:— O  defend  me! 

Stephano.  Four  legs  and  two  voices, — a  most  delicate  monster ! 
His  forward  voice,  now,  is  to  speak  well  of  his  friend ;  his 
backw;ard  voice  is  to  utter  foul  speeches  and  to  detract. 
If  all  ithe  wine  in  my  bottle  will  recover  him,  I  will  help 
his  ague.  Come : — Amen !  I  will  pour  some  in  thy  other 
mouth. 

Trinculo.  Stephano! 

Stephano.  Doth  thy  other  mouth  call  me?  Mercy,  mercy! 
D  49 


ACT  TWO  THE  TEMPEST  scene  two 

This  is  a  devil,  and  no  monster :    I  will  leave  him ;   I  have 

no  long  spoon. 
Trinculo.  Stephano!     If  thou  beest    Stephano,  touch   me,  and 

speak  to  me;  for  I  am  Trinculo, — be  not  afeard, — thy  good 

friend  Trinculo. 
Stephano.   If  thou  beest  Trinculo,  come   forth :  I  '11   pull  thee 

by  the  lesser  legs:   if  any  be   Trinculo's   legs,  these   are 

they.      Thou    art    very    Trinculo    indeed!      How    camest 

thou   to   be   the   siege   of   this   moon-calf?    can    he   vent 

Trinculos  ? 
Trinculo.  I  took  him  to  be  killed  with  a  thunder-stroke.     But 

art  thou  not  drowned,  Stephano?    I  hope,   now,  thou  art 

not  drowned.     Is  the  storm  overblown?    I  hid  me  under 

the  dead  moon-calfs  gaberdine  for  fear  of  the  storm.    And 

art  thou  living,  Stephano?     O  Stephano,  two  Neapolitans 

scaped ! 
Stephano.  Prithee,  do  not  turn  me  about;  my  stomach  is  not 

constant. 
Caliban.    [Aside]    These    be    fine    things,   an   if    they  be   not 
sprites. 

That's  a  brave  god,  and  bears  celestial  liquor: 

I  will  kneel  to  him. 
Stephano.  How  didst  thou  scape?     How  camest  thou  hither? 

swear,  by  this  bottle,  how  thou  camest  hither.    I  escaped 

upon  a  butt  of  sack,  which  the  sailors  heaved  o'erboard, 

by  this  bottle !  which  I  made  of  the  bark  of  a  tree  with 

mine  own  hands,  since  I  was  cast  ashore. 
Caliban.   I  '11  swear,  upon  that  bottle,  to  be  thy  true  subject ; 

for  the  liquor  is  not  earthly. 
Stephano.  Here;  swear,  then,  how  thou  escapedst. 
Trinculo.   Swum  ashore,  man,  like  a  duck:  I  can  swim  like  a 

duck,  I'll  be  sworn. 
Stephano.  Here,  kiss  the  book.     Though  thou  canst  swim  like 

a  duck,  thou  art  made  like  a  goose. 
Trinculo.  O  Stephano,  hast  any  more  of  this  ? 
Stephano.  The  whole  butt,  man :  my  cellar  is  in  a  rock  by  the 

sea-side,  where  my  wine  is   hid.     How  now,   moon-calf! 

how  does  thine  ague? 
Caliban.  Hast  thou  not  dropp'd  from  heaven  ? 
Stephano.  Out  o'  the  moon,  I  do  assure  thee:  I  was  the  man 

i'  the  moon  when  time  was. 

51 


ACT  TWO  THE  TEMPEST  scene  two 

Caliban,   I  have  seen  thee  in  her,  and   I   do  adore  thee:  my 

mistress  show'd  me  thee,  and  thy  dog,  and  thy  bush. 
Stephano.  Come,  swear  to  that ;  kiss  the  book :  I  will  furnish 

it  anon  with  new  contents :  swear. 
Trinculo.  By  this  good   light,  this  is  a  very  shallow  monster! 

I  afeard  of  him !    A  very  weak  monster !    The  man  i'  the 

moon !     A  most  poor  credulous    monster  1     Well   drawn, 

monster,  in  good  sooth ! 
Caliban.   I'll  show  thee   every  fertile  inch  o'  th'  island;  and  I 

will  kiss  thy  foot :  I  prithee,  be  my  god, 
Trinculo.    By    this    light,    a    most     perfidious    and    drunken 

monster!  when's  god's  asleep,  he'll  rob  his  bottle. 
Caliban.  I  '11  kiss  thy  foot ;  I  '11  swear  myself  thy  subject. 
Stephano.  Come  on,  then ;  down,  and  swear. 
Trinculo.   I   shall  laugh   myself  to  death  at  this  puppy-headed 

monster.    A   most   scurvy  monster!    I    could    find   in   my 

heart  to  beat  him, — 
Stephano.  Come,  kiss. 
Trinculo.  But  that  the  poor  monster 's  in  drink.    An  abominable 

monster ! 
Caliban.    I'll   show   thee   the   best   springs;    I'll    pluck    thee 
berries ; 

I'll  fish  for  thee,  and  get  thee  wood  enough. 

A  plague  upon  the  tyrant  that  I  serve! 

I'll  bear  him  no  more  sticks,  but  follow  thee, 

Thou  wondrous  man, 
Trinculo.  A  most  ridiculous  monster,  to  make  a  wonder  of  a 

poor  drunkard ! 
Caliban.  I  prithee,  let  me  bring  thee  where  crabs  grow; 

And  I  with  my  long  nails  will  dig  thee  pig-nuts; 

Show  thee  a  jay's  nest,  and  instruct  thee  how 

To  snare  the  nimble  marmoset ;  I  '11  bring  thee 

To  clustering  filberts,  and  sometimes  I  '11  get  thee 

Young  scamels  from  the  rock.    Wilt  thou  go  with  me  ? 
Stephano.    I    prithee    now,    lead   the  way,   without   any   more 

talking.     Trinculo,    the    king   and   all    our   company   else 

being    drowned,    v/e    will    inherit    here:    here;    bear    my 

bottle :  fellow  Trinculo,  we  '11  fill  him  by  and  by  again. 
Caliban.  [Sings  drunkenly.] 

Farewell,  master ;  farewell,  farewell ! 
Trinculo.  A  howling  monster;  a  drunken  monster! 

52 


ACT  TWO 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  TWO 


Caliban.  No  more  dams  I  '11  make  for  fish ; 

Nor  fetch  in  firing 
At  requiring; 
Nor  scrape  trencher,  nor  wash  dish : 

'Ban,  'Ban,  Cacaliban 
Has  a  new  master: — get  a  new  man. 
Freedom,   hey-day !    hey-day,    freedom !    freedom,    hey-day, 
freedom ! 
Stephana.  O  brave  monster!  Lead  the  way.  [Exeunt. 


54 


55 


ACT  THREE 


SCENE  ONE 


Before  Prospero's  cell. 


[Enter  Ferdinand,  bearing  a  iog.] 

Ferdinand. 

here  be  some  sports  are  painful,  and  their  labour 
Delight  in  them  sets  off:  some  kinds  of  baseness 
Are  nobly  undergone,  and  most  poor  matters 
Point  to  rich  ends.    This  my  mean  task 
Would  be  as  heavy  to  me  as  odious,  but 
The  mistress  which  I  serve  quickens  what's  dead, 
And  makes  my  labours  pleasures :  O,  she  is 
Ten  times  more  gentle  than  her  father's  crabbed, 
And  he 's  composed  of  harshness.     I  must  remove 
Some  thousands  of  these  logs,  and  pile  them  up. 
Upon  a  sore  injunction:  my  sweet  mistress 
Weeps  when  she  sees  me  work,  and  says,  such  base- 
ness 
Had  never  like  executor.    I  forget: 
But  these  sweet  thoughts  do  even  refresh  my  labours, 
Most  busy  lest,  when  I  do  it. 
58 


ACT  THREE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

[Enter  Miranda;  and  Prospero  at  a  distance,  unseen,"] 

Miranda.  Alas,  now,  pray  you, 

Work  not  so  hard :  I  would  the  lightning  had 

Burnt  up  those  logs  that  you  are  enjoin'd  to  pile! 

Pray,  set  it  down,  and  rest  you :  when  this  burns, 

'Twill  weep  for  having  wearied  you.    My  father 

Is  hard  at  study;  pray,  now,  rest  yourself; 

He's  safe  for  these  three  hours. 
Ferdinand.  O  most  dear  mistress, 

The  sun  will  set  before  I  shall  discharge 

What  I  must  strive  to  do. 
Miranda.  If  you  '11  sit  down, 

I  '11  bear  your  logs  the  while :  pray,  give  me  that ; 

I'll  carry  it  to  the  pile. 
Ferdinand.  No,  precious  creature; 

I  had  rather  crack  my  sinews,  break  my  back, 

Than  you  should  such  dishonour  undergo. 

While  I  sit  lazy  by. 
Miranda.  It  would  become  me 

As  well  as  it  does  you :  and  I  should  do  it 

With  much  more  ease ;  for  my  good  will  is  to  it. 

And  yours  it  is  against. 
Prospero.  Poor  worm,  thou  art  infected ! 

This  visitation  shows  it. 
Miranda.  You  look  wearily. 

Ferdinand,  No,  noble  mistress;  'tis  fresh  morning  with  me 

When  you  are  by  at  night.    I  do  beseech  you,— 

Chiefly  that  I  might  set  it  in  my  prayers,— 

What  is  your  name  ? 


59 


ACT  THREE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

Miranda.  Miranda.— O  my  father, 

I  have  broke  your  hest  to  say  so! 
Ferdinand.  Admired  Miranda  I 

Indeed  the  top  of  admiration !  worth 

What's  dearest  to  the  world!    Full  many  a  lady 

I  have  eyed  with  best  regard,  and  many  a  time 

The  harmony  of  their  tongues  hath  into  bondage 

Brought  my  too  diligent  ear :  for  several  virtues 

Have  I  liked  several  women ;  never  any 

"With  so  full  soul,  but  some  defect  in  her 

Did  quarrel  with  the  noblest  grace  she  owed, 

And  put  it  to  the  foil:  but  you,  O  you, 

So  perfect  and  so  peerless,  are  created 

Of  every  creature's  best ! 
Miranda.  I  do  not  know 

One  of  my  sex ;  no  woman's  face  remember. 

Save,  from  my  glass,  mine  own ;  nor  have  I  seen 

More  that  I  may  call  men  than  you,  good  friend. 

And  my  dear  father:  how  features  are  abroad, 

I  am  skilless  of;  but,  by  my  modesty, 

The  jewel  in  my  dower,  I  would  not  wish 

Any  companion  in  the  world  but  you ; 

Nor  can  imagination  form  a  shape, 

Besides  yourself,  to  like  of.    But  I  prattle 

Something  too  wildly,  and  my  father's  precepts 

I  therein  do  forget. 
Ferdinand.  I  am,  in  my  condition, 

A  prince,  Miranda;  I  do  think,  a  king; 

I  would,  not  so! — and  would  no  more  endure 

This  wooden  slavery  than  to  suffer 

The  flesh-fly  blow  my  mouth.      Hear  my  soul  speak: 

The  very  instant  that  I  saw  you,  did 

My  heart  fly  to  your  service ;  there  resides. 

To  make  me  slave  to  it;  and  for  your  sake 

Am  I  this  patient  log-man. 
Miranda.  Do  you  love  me.^ 

Ferdinand.    O   heaven,    O    earth,    bear   witness    to    this 
sound. 

And  crown  what  I  profess  with  kind  event, 

If  I  speak  true !  if  hollowly,  invert 

What  best  is  boded  me  to  mischief!    I, 

60 


ACT  THREE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Beyond  all  limit  of  what  else  i'  the  world, 

Do  love,  prize,  honour  you. 
Miranda.  I  am  a  fool 

To  weep  at  what  I  am  glad  of. 
Prospero.  Fair  encounter 

Of  two  most  rare  affections !    Heavens  rain  grace 

On  that  which  breeds  between  *em ! 
Ferdinand.  Wherefore  weep  you? 

Miranda.  At  mine  unworthiness,  that  dare  not  offer 

What  I  desire  to  give ;  and  much  less  take 

What  I  shall  die  to  want.    But  this  is  trifling; 

And  all  the  more  it  seeks  to  hide  itself, 

The  bigger  bulk  it  shows.    Hence,  bashful  cunning! 

And  prompt  me,  plain  and  holy  innocence ! 

I  am  your  wife,  if  you  will  marry  me ; 

If  not,  I  '11  die  your  maid :  to  be  your  fellow 

You  may  deny  me ;  but  I  '11  be  your  servant. 

Whether  you  will  or  no. 
Ferdinand.  My  mistress,  dearest; 

And  I  thus  humble  ever. 
Miranda.  My  husband,  then  ? 

Ferdinand.  Ay,  with  a  heart  as  willing 

As  bondage  e'er  of  freedom :  here 's  my  hand. 
Miranda.  And  mine,  with  my  heart  in't:  and  now  farewell 

Till  half  an  hour  hence. 
Ferdinand.  A  thousand  thousand ! 

[Exeunt  Ferdinand  and  Miranda  severally, 
Prospero.  So  glad  of  this  as  they  I  cannot  be. 

Who  are  surprised  withal ;  but  my  rejoicing 

At  nothing  can  be  more.     I  '11  to  my  book ; 

For  yet,  ere  supper-time,  must  I  perform 

Much  business  appertaining.  [Exit. 


6i 


SCENE  TWO 
Another  part  of  the  island. 
[Enter  Caliban,  Stephana,  and  Trinculo.] 

Stephana. 

ell  not  me;— when  the  butt  is  out,  we  will 
■^  i^-» — *^  drink  water;  not  a  drop  before:  there- 
^■■■^  fore  bear  up,  and  board  'em.      Servant- 

monster,  drink  to  me. 
Trincula.  Servant-monster !  the  folly  of  this  island !     They  say 
there 's  but  five  upon  this  isle :   we   are  three  of  them ;  if 
th'  other  two  be  brained  like  us,  the  state  totters. 
Stephana.  Drink,  servant-monster,  when  I  bid  thee:  thy  eyes 

are  almost  set  in  thy  head. 
Trincula.  Where  should  they  be  set  else  ?   he   were   a  brave 

monster  indeed,  if  they  were  set  in  his  tail. 
Stephana.  My  man-monster  hath  drowned  his  tongue  in  sack : 
for  my  part,  the  sea  cannot  drown  me;  I  swam,  ere  I 
could  recover  the  shore,  five-and-thirty  leagues  off  and  on. 
By  this  light,  thou  shalt  be  my  lieutenant,  monster,  or  my 
standard. 

62 


VCT  THREE  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Trtnculo.  Your  lieutenant,  if  you  list ;  he 's  no  standard. 

Stephana.  We'll  not  run,  Monsieur  Monster. 

Trinculo.  Nor  go  neither ;  but  you  '11  lie,  like  dogs,  and  yet  say 

nothing  neither. 
Stepbano.  Moon-calf,  speak   once  in  thy  life,  if  thou   beest   a 

good  moon-calf. 
Caliban.  How  does  thy  honour?     Let  me  lick  thy  shoe.       I'll 

not  serve  him,  he  is  not  valiant. 
Trinculo.  Thou  liest,  most  ignorant  monster:  I  am  in  case  to 

justle  a  constable.     Why,  thou  deboshed   fish,  thou,  was 

there    ever    man    a    coward    that    hath    drunk    so    much 

sack  as  I  to-day?     Wilt   thou  tell  a  monstrous  lie,    being 

but  half  a  fish  and  half  a  monster  ? 
Caliban.  Lo,  how  he  mocks  me !  wilt  thou  let  him,  my  lord  ? 
Trinculo.  'Lord,*  quoth   he!     That  a  monster  should  be  such 

a  natural ! 
Caliban.  Lo,  lo,  again !  bite  him  to  death,  I  prithee. 
Stepbano.  Trinculo,  keep  a  good  tongue  in  your  head :  if  you 

prove   a  mutineer,— the   next  tree!     The  poor  monster's 

my  subject,  and  he  shall  not  suffer  indignity. 
Caliban.    I   thank   my   noble  lord.      Wilt  thou  be    pleased  to 

hearken  once  again  to  the  suit  I  made  to  thee  ? 
Stepbano.  Marry,  will   I :    kneel  and   repeat   it ;   I  will  stand, 

and  so  shall  Trinculo. 

[Enter  Ariel,  invisible.] 

Caliban.   As   I   told  thee   before,  I  am  subject  to  a  tyrant,  a 

sorcerer,    that   by  his  cunning  hath   cheated    me   of  the 

island. 
Ariel.  Thou  liest. 
Caliban.  Thou  liest,  thou  jesting  monkey,  thou : 

I  would  my  valiant  master  would  destroy  thee ! 

I  do  not  lie. 
Stepbano.   Trinculo,  if  you  trouble  him  any  more  in's  tale,  by 

this  hand,  I  will  supplant  some  of  your  teeth. 
Trinculo.  Why,  I  said  nothing. 
Stepbano.  Mum,  then,  and  no  more.      Proceed. 
Caliban.  I  say,  by  sorcery  he  got  this  isle; 

From  me  he  got  it.      If  thy  greatness  will 

Revenge  it  on  him, — for  I  know  thou  darest. 

But  this  thing  dare  not, — 

63 


ACT  THREE  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Stephano.  That's  most  certain. 

Caliban.  Thou  shalt  be  lord  of  it,  and  I  '11  serve  thee. 

Stephano.  How  now  shall  this  be  compassed?  Canst  thou 
bring  me  to  the  party? 

Caliban.  Yea,  yea,  my  lord:  I'll  yield  him  thee  asleep. 
Where  thou  mayst  knock  a  nail  into  his  head. 

Ariel.  Thou  liest ;  thou  canst  not. 

Caliban.  What  a  pied  ninny 's  this !     Thou  scurvy  patch  I 
I  do  beseech  thy  greatness,  give  him  blows. 
And  take  his  bottle  from  him:  when  that's  gone. 
He  shall  drink  naught  but  brine ;  for  I  '11  not  show  him 
Where  the  quick  freshes  are. 

Stephano.  Trinculo,  run  into  no  further  danger:  interrupt  the 
monster  one  word  further,  and,  by  this  hand,  I  '11  turn 
my  mercy  out  o'  doors,  and  make  a  stock-fish  of  thee. 

Trinculo.  Why,  what  did  I?  I  did  nothing.  I'll  go  farther 
off. 

Stephano.  Didst  thou  not  say  he  lied? 

Ariel.  Thou  liest. 

Stephano.  Do  I  so?  take  thou  that.  [Beats  him.]  As  you 
like  this,  give  me  the  lie  another  time. 

Trinculo.  I  did  not  give  the  lie.  Out  o*  your  wits,  and  hearing 
too?  A  pox  o'  your  bottle!  this  can  sack  and  drinking 
do.  A  murrain  on  your  monster,  and  the  devil  take  your 
fingers ! 

Caliban.  Ha,  ha,  ha! 

Stephano.  Now,  forward  with  your  tale. — Prithee,  stand  farther 
off. 

Caliban.  Beat  him  enough:  after  a  little  time, 
I'll  beat  him  too. 

Stephano.  Stand  farther. — Come,  proceed. 

Caliban.  Why,  as  I  told  thee,  'tis  a  custom  with  him 

r  th'  afternoon  to  sleep:  there  thou  mayst  brain  him, 
Having  first  seized  his  books ;  or  with  a  log 
Batter  his  skull,  or  paunch  him  with  a  stake. 
Or  cut  his  wezand  with  thy  knife.    Remember 
First  to  possess  his  books ;  for  without  them 
He 's  but  a  sot,  as  I  am,  nor  hath  not 
One  spirit  to  command:  they  all  do  hate  him 
As  rootedly  as  I.    Burn  but  his  books. 
He  has  brave  utensils, — for  so  he  calls  them, — 

64 


ACT  THREE  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Which  when  he  has  a  house,  he'll  deck  v/ithal. 

And  that  most  deeply  to  consider  is 

The  beauty  of  his  daughter ;   he  himself 

Calls  her  a  nonpareil :  I  never  saw  a  woman, 

But  only  Sycorax  my  dam  and  she ; 

But  she  as  far  surpasseth  Sycorax 

As  great'st  does  least. 
Stephano.  Is  it  so  brave  a  lass? 

Caliban.  Ay,  lord;  she  v/ill  become  thy  bed,  I  warrant, 

And  bring  thee  forth  brave  brood. 
Stephano.  Monster,  I  will   kill  this  man:    his  daughter  and  I 

will  be   king  and  queen, — save  our  graces! — and  Trinculo 

and   thyself   shall  be  viceroys.     Dost   thou   like  the  plot, 

Trinculo  ? 
Trinculo.  Excellent. 
Stephano.  Give  me  thy  hand :   I   am   sorry  I   beat  thee ;  but, 

while  thou  livest,  keep  a  good  tongue  in  thy  head. 
Caliban.  Within  this  half-hour  will  he  be  asleep : 

Wilt  thou  destroy  him  then? 
Stephano.  Ay,  on  mine  honour. 

Ariel.  This  will  I  tell  my  master. 
Caliban.  Thou  makest  me  merry;  I  am  full  of  pleasure: 

Let  us  be  jocund :  will  you  troll  the  catch 

You  taught  me  but  while-ere? 
Stephano.    At   thy   request,    monster,    I    will    do   reason,    any 

reason.— Come  on,  Trinculo,  let  us  sing.  [Sings. 

Flout  'em  and  scout  'em, 
And  scout  'em  and  flout  'em; 
Thought  is  free. 

Caliban.  That's  not  the  tune. 

[Ariel  plays  the  tune  on  a  tabor  and  pipe. 
Stephano.  What  is  this  same? 
Trinculo.  This  is  the  tune  of  our  catch,  played  by  the  picture 

of  Nobody. 
Stephano.  If  thou  beest  a  man,  show  thyself  in  thy  likeness: 

if  thou  beest  a  devil,  take 't  as  thou  list. 
Trinculo.  O,  forgive  me  my  sins ! 
Stephano.  He  that  dies  pays  all  debts:    I   defy  thee.    Mercy 

upon  us ! 
Caliban.  Art  thou  afeard? 

66 


ACT  THREE  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  TWO 

Stephana.  No,  monster,  not  I. 

Caliban.  Be  not  afeard ;  the  isle  is  full  of  noises, 

Sounds  and  sweet  airs,  that  give  delight,  and  hurt  not. 
Sometimes  a  thousand  twangling  instruments 
Will  hum  about  mine  ears ;  and  sometime  voices, 
That,  if  I  then  had  waked  after  long  sleep, 
"Will  make  me  sleep  again :  and  then,  in  dreaming. 
The  clouds  methought  would  open,  and  show  riches 
Ready  to  drop  upon  me ;  that,  when  I  waked, 
I  cried  to  dream  again. 

Stephana.  This  will  prove  a  brave  kingdom  to  me,  where  I 
shall  have  my  music  for  nothing. 

Caliban.  When  Prospero  is  destroyed. 

Stephana.  That  shall  be  by  and  by :  I  remember  the  story. 

Trinculo.  The  sound  is  going  away;  let's  follow  it,  and  after 
do  our  work. 

Stephana.  Lead,  monster;  we'll   follow.     I  would   I   could  see 
this  taborer ;  he  lays  it  on. 

Trincula.  Wilt  come  ?    I  '11  follow,  Stephano.  [Exeunt. 


67 


SCENE  THREE 

Another  part  of  the  island. 

[Enter  Alonso,  Sebastian,  Antonio,  Qonzalo, 
Adrian,  Francisco,  and  others.^ 

Gonzalo. 
y'r  lakin,  I  can  go  no  further,  sir; 
My  old  bones  ache :  here 's  a  maze  trod,  indeed, 
Through   forth-rights   and  meanders!     By  your 

patience, 
I  needs  must  rest  me. 
68 


ACT  THREE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  THREE 

Alonso.  Old  lord,  I  cannot  blame  thee, 

Who  am  myself  attach'd  with  weariness, 

To  the  dulling  of  my  spirits :  sit  down,  and  rest. 

Even  here  I  will  put  off  my  hope,  and  keep  it 

No  longer  for  my  flatterer :  he  is  drown'd 

Whom  thus  we  stray  to  find:  and  the  sea  mocks 

Our  frustrate  search  on  land.    Well,  let  him  go. 
Antonio.    [Aside  to  Sebastian]  I  am  right  glad  that  he's  so  out 
of  hope. 

Do  not,  for  one  repulse,  forego  the  purpose 

That  you  resolved  to  effect. 
Sebastian.        [Aside  to  Antonio]  The  next  advantage 

Will  we  take  throughly. 
Antonio.     [Aside  to  Sebastian]  Let  it  be  to-night; 

For,  now  they  are  oppress'd  with  travel,  they 

Will  not,  nor  cannot,  use  such  vigilance 

As  when  they  are  fresh. 
Sebastian.   [Aside  to  Antonio]   I  say,  to-night:  no  more. 

[Solemn  and  strange  music. 
Alonso.  What  harmony  is  this  ? — My  good  friends,  hark  ! 
Gonzalo.   Marvellous  sweet  music  ! 

[Enter  Prospero  above,  invisible.  Enter  several  strange 
Shapes,  bringing  in  a  banquet:  they  dance  about  it 
with  gentle  actions  of  salutation;  and,  inviting  the 
King,  etc.,  to  eat,  they  depart.] 

Alonso.   Give  us  kind  keepers,  heavens ! — What  were  these  ? 

Sebastian.   A  living  drollery.    Now  I  will  believe 
That  there  are  unicorns;  that  in  Arabia 
There  is  one  tree,  the  phoenix*  throne:  one  phoenix 
At  this  hour  reigning  there. 

Antonio.  I  '11  believe  both  ; 

And  what  does  else  want  credit,  come  to  me, 
And  I  '11  be  sworn  'tis  true :  travellers  ne'er  did  lie, 
Though  fools  at  home  condemn  'em. 

Gonzalo.  If  in  Naples 

I  should  report  this  now,  would  they  believe  me  ? 
If  I  should  say,  I  saw  such  islanders, — 
For,  certes,  these  are  people  of  the  island, — 
Who,  though  they  are  of  monstrous  shape,  yet,  note, 
Their  manners  are  more  gentle-kind  than  of 

69 


THE  MASQUE  OF  COURTEOUS  MONSTERS 


f       ^^(^  ^^^     M)  ^^"''  -^         ^»   vV^.'A      (    ^^''///         .5 


Mr.  PS' 


ACT  THREE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  THREE 


Our  human  generation  you  shall  find 
Many,  nay,  almost  any. 

Prospero.  [As/de]  Honest  lord. 

Thou  hast  said  well ;  for  some  of  you  there  present 
Are  worse  than  devils. 

Alonso.  I  cannot  too  much  muse 

Such  shapes,  such  gesture,  and  such  sound,  expressing — 
Although  they  want  the  use  of  tongue — a  kind 
Of  excellent  dumb  discourse. 

Prospero.  [Aside]  Praise  in  departing. 

Francisco.   They  vanish'd  strangely. 

Sebastian.  No  matter,  since 

They  have  left  their  viands  behind ;  for  we  have  stomachs. — 
Will 't  please  you  taste  of  what  is  here  ? 

Alonso.  Not  I. 

Gonzalo.   Faith,  sir,  you  need  not  fear.    When  we  were  boys. 
Who  would  believe  that  there  were  mountaineers 
Dew-lapp'd  like  bulls,  whose  throats  had  hanging  at  'em 
Wallets  of  flesh  ?  or  that  there  were  such  men 
Whose  heads  stood  in  their  breasts?  which  now  we  find 
Each  putter-out  of  five  for  one  will  bring  us 
Good  warrant  of. 

Alonso.  I  will  stand  to,  and  feed, 

Although  my  last :  no  matter,  since  I  feel 
The  best  is  past.    Brother,  my  lord  the  duke, 
Stand  to,  and  do  as  v/e. 


ACT  THREE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  THREE 


[Thunder  and  lightning.  Enter  Ariel  lilce  a  harpy;  claps  his 
wings  upon  the  table;  and,  with  a  quaint  device,  the 
banquet  vanishes.] 


Ariel.  You  are  three  men  of  sin,  whom  Destiny, — 
That  hath  to  instrument  this  lower  world 
And  what  is  in't, — the  never-surfeited  sea 
Hath  caused  to  belch  up  you :  and  on  this  island, 

73 


ACT  THREE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  THREE 

Where  man  doth  not  inhabit,— you  'mongst  men 
Being  most  unfit  to  live.    I  have  made  you  mad; 
And  even  with  such-like  valour  men  hang  and  drown 
Their  proper  selves. 

[Alonso,  Sebastian,  etc.,  draw  their  swords. 
You  fools!  I  and  my  fellows 
Are  ministers  of  Fate  :  the  elements, 
Of  whom  your  swords  are  temper'd,  may  as  well 
Wound  the  loud  winds,  or  with  bemock'd-at  stabs 
Kill  the  still-closing  waters,  as  diminish 
One  dowle  that 's  in  my  plume :  my  fellow-ministers 
Are  like  invulnerable.     If  you  could  hurt, 
Your  swords  are  now  too  massy  for  your  strengths, 
And  will  not  be  uplifted.     But  remember, — 
For  that's  my  business  to  you, — that  you  three 
From  Milan  did  supplant  good  Prospero ; 
Exposed  unto  the  sea,  which  hath  requit  it, 
Him  and  his  innocent  child :  for  which  foul  deed 
The  powers,  delaying,  not  forgetting,  have 
Incensed  the  seas  and  shores,  yea,  all  the  creatures. 
Against  your  peace.    Thee  of  thy  son,  Alonso, 
They  have  bereft ;  and  do  pronounce  by  me : 
Lingering  perdition — worse  than  any  death 
Can  be  at  once— shall  step  by  step  attend 
You  and  your  ways ;  whose  wraths  to  guard  you  from, — 
Which  here,  in  this  most  desolate  isle,  else  falls 
Upon  your  heads, — is  nothing  but  heart-sorrow 
And  a  clear  life  ensuing. 

[He  vanislies  in  t/iunder;  then,  to  soft  music,  enter  the 
Shapes  again,  and  dance,  with  moclcs  and  mows, 
and  carrying  out  the  table.] 

Prospero.   Bravely  the  figure  of  this  harpy  hast  thou 
Perform'd,  my  Ariel ;  a  grace  it  had,  devouring : 
Of  my  instruction  hast  thou  nothing  bated 
In  what  thou  hadst  to  say:  so,  with  good  life 
And  observation  strange,  my  meaner  ministers 
Their  several  kinds  have  done.    My  high  charms  work, 
And  these  mine  enemies  are  all  knit  up 
In  their  distractions :  they  now  are  in  my  power ; 
And  in  these  fits  I  leave  them,  while  I  visit 

74 


I 


lCT  three  the  tempest  scene  three 

Young  Ferdinand, — whom  they  suppose  is  drown'd, — 
And  his  and  mine  loved  darling-.  [Exit  above, 

Oonzalo.   V  the  name  of  something  holy,  sir,  why  stand  you 
In  this  strange  stare? 

Alonso.  O,  it  is  monstrous,  monstrous! 

Methought  the  billows  spoke,  and  told  me  of  it ; 
The  w^inds  did  sing  it  to  me;  and  the  thunder, 
That  deep  and  dreadful  organ-pipe,  pronounced 
The  name  of  Prosper;  it  did  bass  my  trespass. 
Therefore  my  son  i'  th'  ooze  is  bedded ;  and 
I'll  seek  him  deeper  than  e'er  plummet  sounded. 
And  with  him  there  lie  mudded.  [Exit. 

Sebastian.  But  one  fiend  at  a  time, 

I  '11  fight  their  legions  o'er. 

Antonio.  I'll  be  thy  second. 

[Exeunt  Sebastian  and  Antonio. 

Goazalo.   All  three  of  them  are  desperate :  their  great  guilt, 
Like  poison  given  to  work  a  great  time  after. 
Now  'gins  to  bite  the  spirits.    I  do  beseech  you, 
That  are  of  suppler  joints,  follow  them  swiftly, 
And  hinder  them  from  what  this  ecstasy 
May  now  provoke  them  to. 

Adrian.  Follow,  I  pray  you.     [Exeunt, 


75 


^ 
^ 


ACT  IV    Ij 


ACT  FOUR 


SCENE  ONE 


Before  Prospero's  cell. 


[Enter  Prospero,  Ferdinand,  and  Miranda.] 


Prospero. 
F  I  have  too  austerely  punish'd  you, 
Your  compensation  makes  amends ;  for  I 
Have  given  you  here  a  third  of  mine  own  life, 
Or  that  for  which  I  live ;  who  once  again 
I  tender  to  thy  hand :  all  thy  vexations 
Were  but  my  trials  of  thy  love,  and  thou 
Hast  strangely  stood  the  test:  here,  afore  Heaven, 
I  ratify  this  my  rich  gift.    O  Ferdinand, 
Do  not  smile  at  me  that  I  boast  her  off, 
For  thou  shalt  find  she  will  outstrip  all  praise, 
And  make  it  halt  behind  her. 

Ferdinand.  I  do  believe  it 

Against  an  oracle. 

Prospero.   Then,  as  my  gift,  and  thine  own  acquisition 
Worthily  purchased,  take  my  daughter:  but 

78 


ACT  FOUR 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


If  thou  dost  break  her  virgin-knot  before 
All  sanctimonious  ceremonies  may 
With  full  and  holy  rite  be  minister'd, 
No  sweet  aspersion  shall  the  heavens  let  fall 
To  make  this  contract  grow ;  but  barren  hate, 
Sour-eyed  disdain  and  discord  shall  bestrew 
The  union  of  your  bed  with  weeds  so  loathly 
That  you  shall  hate  it  both :  therefore  take  heed, 
As  Hymen's  lamps  shall  light  you. 

Ferdinand.  As  I  hope 

For  quiet  days,  fair  issue  and  long  life. 
With  such  love  as  'tis  now,  the  murkiest  den. 
The  most  opportune  place,  the  strong'st  suggestion 
Our  worser  genius  can,  shall  never  melt 
Mine  honour  into  lust,  to  take  away 
The  edge  of  that  day's  celebration 
When  I  shall  think,  or  Phoebus'  steeds  are  founder'd, 
Or  Night  kept  chain'd  below. 

Prospero.  Fairly  spoke. 

Sit,  then,  and  talk  with  her;  she  is  thine  own. 
What,  Ariel  ?  my  industrious  servant,  Ariel ! 

[Enter  Ariel.] 
Ariel,  What  would  my  potent  master?  here  I  am. 


79 


ACT  FOUR  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

Prospero.  Thou  and  thy  meaner  fellows  your  last  service 

Did  worthily  perform ;  and  I  must  use  you 

In  such  another  trick.    Go  bring  the  rabble, 

O'er  whom  I  give  thee  power,  here  to  this  place: 

Incite  them  to  quick  motion;  for  I  must 

Bestow  upon  the  eyes  of  this  young  couple 

Some  vanity  of  mine  art :  it  is  my  promise, 

And  they  expect  it  from  me. 
Ariel.  Presently? 

Prospero.  Ay,  with  a  twink. 

Ariel.  Before  you  can  say,  'come,'  and  *go,' 

And  breathe  twice,  and  cry,  'so,  so,' 
Each  one,  tripping  on  his  toe, 
Will  be  here  with  mop  and  mow. 
Do  you  love  me,  master?  no? 
Prospero.  Dearly,  my  delicate  Ariel.     Do  not  approach 

Till  thou  dost  hear  me  call. 
Ariel.  Well,  I  conceive.  [Exit. 

Prospero.  Look  thou  be  true ;  do  not  give  dalliance 

Too  much  the  rein:  the  strongest  oaths  are  straw 

To  the  fire  i'  the  blood :  be  more  abstemious, 

Or  else,  good  night  your  vow! 
Ferdinand.  I  warrant  you,  sir; 

The  white  cold  virgin  snow  upon  my  heart 

Abates  the  ardour  of  my  liver. 
Prospero.  Well. 

Now  come,  my  Ariel !  bring  a  corollary. 

Rather  than  want  a  spirit :  appear,  and  pertly ! 

No  tongue !  all  eyes !  be  silent.  [Soft  music. 

[Enter  Iris.] 

Iris.  Ceres,  most  bounteous  lady,  thy  rich  leas 

Of  wheat,  rye,  barley,  vetches,  oats,  and  pease ; 
Thy  turfy  mountains,  where  live  nibbling  sheep. 
And  flat  meads  thatch'd  with  stover,  them  to  keep ; 
Thy  banks  with  pioned  and  twilled  brims, 
Which  spongy  April  at  thy  best  betrims. 
To   make  cold   nymphs   chaste   crowns ;    and   thy  broom- 
groves. 
Whose  shadow  the  dismissed  bachelor  loves, 

80 


ACT  FOUR  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

Being  lass-lorn ;  thy  pole-clipt  vineyard ; 

And  thy  sea-marge,  sterile  and  rocky-hard, 

Where  thou  thyself  dost  air ;— the  queen  o'  the  sky, 

Whose  watery  arch  and  messenger  am  I, 

Bids  thee  leave  these ;  and  with  her  sovereign  grace, 

Here  on  this  grass-plot,  in  this  very  place. 

To  come  and  sport : — her  peacocks  fly  amain  : 

Approach,  rich  Ceres,  her  to  entertain. 

[Enter  Ceres.] 

Ceres.  Hail,  many-colour'd  messenger,  that  ne'er 

Dost  disobey  the  wife  of  Jupiter ; 

Who,  with  thy  saffron  wings,  upon  my  flowers 

Diffusest  honey-drops,  refreshing  showers ; 

And  with  each  end  of  thy  blue  bow  dost  crown 

My  bosky  acres  and  my  unshrubb'd  down. 

Rich  scarf  to  my  proud  earth ;— why  hath  thy  queen 

Summon'd  me  hither,  to  this  short-grass'd  green  ? 
IrJs.  A  contract  of  true  love  to  celebrate ; 

And  some  donation  freely  to  estate 

On  the  blest  lovers, 
Ceres.  Tell  me,  heavenly  bow. 

If  Venus  or  her  son,  as  thou  dost  know, 

Do  now  attend  the  queen  ?    Since  they  did  plot 

The  means  that  dusky  Dis  my  daughter  got. 

Her  and  her  blind  boy's  scandal'd  company 

I  have  forsworn. 
Iris,  Of  her  society 

Be  not  afraid:  I  met  her  deity 

Cutting  the  clouds  towards  Paphos,  and  her  son 

Dove-drawn  with  her.    Here  thought  they  to  have  done 

Some  wanton  charm  upon  this  man  and  maid, 

Whose  vows  are,  that  no  bed-right  shall  be  paid 

Till  Hymen's  torch  be  lighted :  but  in  vain ; 

Mar's  hot  minion  is  return'd  again; 

Her  waspish-headed  son  has  broke  his  arrows. 

Swears  he  will  shoot  no  more,  but  play  with  sparrows. 

And  be  a  boy  right  out. 
Ceres.  High'st  queen  of  state, 

Great  Juno,  comes ;  I  know  her  by  her  gait. 
F  8i 


IVNO 


M^\  J'JI 


VX» 


THE  MASQUE  OF  THE  GRACEFUL  DANCE 


ACT  FOUR  THE  TEMPEST  scene  one 

[Enter  Juno.] 

Juno.  How  does  my  bounteous  sister?    Go  with  me 
To  bless  this  twain,  that  they  may  prosperous  be, 
And  honour'd  in  their  issue.  [They  sing. 

Juno.  Honour,  riches,  marriage-blessing, 

Long  continuance,  and  increasing. 
Hourly  joys  be  still  upon  you ! 
Juno  sings  her  blessings  on  you, 

Ceres.  Earth's  increase,  foison  plenty, 

Barns  and  garners  never  empty ; 
Vines  with  clustering  bunches  growing; 
Plants  v/ith  goodly  burthen  bowing ; 
Spring  come  to  you  at  the  farthest 
In  the  very  end  of  harvest ! 
Scarcity  and  v/ant  shall  shun  you; 
Ceres'  blessing  so  is  on  you. 

Ferdinand.  This  is  a  most  majestic  vision,  and 

Harmonious  charmingly.    May  I  be  bold 

To  think  these  spirits? 
Prospero.  Spirits,  which  by  mine  art 

I  have  from  their  confines  call'd  to  enact 

My  present  fancies. 
Ferdinand.  Let  me  live  here  ever; 

So  rare  a  wonder'd  father  and  a  wise 

Makes  this  place  Paradise. 

[Juno  and  Ceres  wliisper,  and  send 
Iris  on  employment. 
Prospero.  Sweet,  now,  silence ! 

Juno  and  Ceres  whisper  seriously; 

There 's  something  else  to  do :  hush,  and  be  mute, 

Or  else  our  spell  is  marr'd. 
Iris.  You  nymphs,  call'd  Naiads,  of  the  windring  brooks, 

With  your  sedged  crowns  and  ever-harmless  looks. 

Leave  your  crisp  channels,  and  on  this  green  land 

Answer  your  summons ;  Juno  does  command : 

Come,  temperate  nymphs,  and  help  to  celebrate 

A  contract  of  true  love ;  be  not  too  late. 

84 


ACT  FOUR  THE  TEMPEST  scene  one 

[Enter  certain  Nymphs.] 

You  sunburn'd  sicklemen,  of  August  weary, 
Come  hither  from  the  furrow,  and  be  merry: 
Make  holiday:  your  rye-straw  hats  put  on, 
And  these  fresh  nymphs  encounter  every  one 
In  country  footing. 

[Enter  certain  Reapers,  properly  habited:  they  Join  with 
the  Nymphs  In  a  graceful  dance;  towards  the  end 
whereof  Prospero  starts  suddenly,  and  spealcs ;  after 
which,  to  a  strange,  hollow,  and  confused  noise, 
they  heavily  vanish. 

Prospero.  [Aside]  I  had  forgot  that  foul  conspiracy 

Of  the  beast  Caliban  and  his  confederates 

Against  my  life :  the  minute  of  their  plot 

Is  almost  come.     [To  the  Spirits.]    Well  done!   avoid;  no 
more! 
Ferdinand.  This  is  strange:  your  father's  in  some  passion 

That  works  him  strongly. 
Miranda.  Never  till  this  day 

Saw  I  him  touch'd  with  anger  so  distemper'd. 
Prospero.  You  do  look,  my  son,  in  a  moved  sort. 

As  if  you  were  dismay'd :  be  cheerful,  sir. 

Our  revels  now  are  ended.    These  our  actors. 

As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits,  and 

Are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air : 

And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision, 

The  cloud-capp'd  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces. 

The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself. 

Yea,  all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve. 

And,  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded, 

Leave  not  a  rack  behind.    We  are  such  stuff 

As  dreams  are  made  on;  and  our  little  life 

Is  founded  with  a  sleep.    Sir,  I  am  vex'd ; 

Bear  with  my  weakness;  my  old  brain  is  troubled: 

Be  not  disturbed  with  my  infirmity: 

If  you  be  pleased,  retire  into  my  cell. 

And  there  repose:  a  turn  or  two  I'll  walk. 

To  still  my  beating  mind. 

85 


ACT  FOUR  THE  TEMPEST  scene  one 

Ferdinand,  Miranda.  We  wish  your  peace.      [Exeunt, 

Prospero.  Come  with  a  thought.    I  thank  thee,  Ariel:  come. 

[Enter  Ariel.] 

Ariel.  Thy  thoughts  I  cleave  to.    What 's  thy  pleasure  ? 

Prospero.  Spirit, 

We  must  prepare  to  meet  with  Caliban. 

Ariel.  Ay,  my  commander:  when  I  presented  Ceres, 
I  thought  to  have  told  thee  of  it ;  but  I  fear'd 
Lest  I  might  anger  thee. 

Prospero.  Say  again,  where  didst  thou  leave  these  varlets? 

Ariel.  I  told  you,  sir,  they  were  red- hot  with  drinking ; 
So  full  of  valour  that  they  smote  the  air 
For  breathing  in  their  faces ;  beat  the  ground 
For  kissing  of  their  feet ;  yet  always  bending 
Towards  their  project.    Then  I  beat  my  tabor; 
At  which,  like  unback'd  colts,  they  prick'd  their  ears, 
Advanced  their  eyelids,  lifted  up  their  noses 
As  they  smelt  music :  so  I  charm'd  their  ears, 
That,  calf-like,  they  my  lowing  follow'd  through 
Tooth'd  briers,  sharp  furzes,  pricking  goss,  and  thorns, 
Which  enter'd  their  frail  shins :  at  last  I  left  them 
r  the  filthy-mantled  pool  beyond  your  cell. 
There  dancing  up  to  the  chins,  that  the  foul  lake 
O'erstunk  their  feet. 

Prospero.  This  was  well  done,  my  bird. 

Thy  shape  invisible  retain  thou  still: 
The  trumpery  in  my  house,  go  bring  it  hither, 
For  stale  to  catch  these  thieves. 

Ariel.  I  go,  I  go.  [Exit, 

Prospero.  A  devil,  a  born  devil,  on  whose  nature 
Nurture  can  never  stick;  on  whom  my  pains. 
Humanely  taken,  all,  all  lost,  quite  lost ; 
And  as  with  age  his  body  uglier  grows. 
So  his  mind  cankers.    I  will  plague  them  all. 
Even  to  roaring. 

[Re-enter  Ariel,  loaden  with  glistering  apparel,  etc.] 

Come,  hang  them  on  this  line. 
86 


ACT  FOUR  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

[Prospero  and  Ariel  remain,  invisible.] 
[Enter  Caliban,  Stephana,  and  Trinculo,  all  wet.] 

Caliban.  Pray  you,  tread  softly,  that  the  blind  mole  may  not 

Hear  a  foot  fall :  we  now  are  near  his  cell. 
Stephana.  Monster,   your   fairy,   which  you   say  is  a  harmless 

fairy,  has  done  little  better  than  played  the  Jack  with  us. 
Trincula.  Monster,  I  do  smell  all  horse-piss ;  at  which  my  nose 

is  in  great  indignation. 
Stephana.    So  is  mine.     Do  you   hear,   monster?    If  I   should 

take  a  displeasure  against  you,  look  you, — 
Trincula.  Thou  wert  but  a  lost  monster. 
Caliban.  Good  my  lord,  give  me  thy  favour  still. 

Be  patient,  for  the  prize  I  '11  bring  thee  to 

Shall  hoodwink  this  mischance:  therefore  speak  softly. 

All's  hush'd  as  midnight  yet. 
Trincula.  Ay,  but  to  lose  our  bottles  in  the  pool, — 
Stephana.   There  is  not  only  disgrace  and  dishonour  in  that, 

monster,  but  an  infinite  loss. 
Trincula.    That's  more    to  me   than  my  wetting:  yet    this    is 

your  harmless  fairy,  monster. 
Stephana.  I  will  fetch  off  my  bottle,  though  I  be  o'er  ears  for 

my  labour. 
Caliban.  Prithee,  my  king,  be  quiet.    See'st  thou  here, 

This  is  the  mouth  o'  the  cell:  no  noise,  and  enter. 

Do  that  good  mischief  which  may  make  this  island 

Thine  own  for  ever,  and  I,  thy  Caliban, 

For  aye  thy  foot-licker. 
Stephana.    Give    me   thy   hand.     I    do   begin   to  have  bloody 

thoughts. 
Trincula.   O  King  Stephano !     O  peer  I     O  worthy  Stephano  I 

look  what  a  wardrobe  here  is  for  thee ! 
Caliban.  Let  it  alone,  thou  fool;  it  is  but  trash. 
Trincula.  O,  ho,  monster !  we  know  what  belongs  to  a  frippery. 

O  King  Stephano! 
Stephana.    Put    off   that    gown,    Trinculo;    by  this  hand,   I'll 

have  that  gown. 
Trincula.  Thy  grace  shall  have  it. 
Caliban.  The  dropsy  drown  this  fool!  what  do  you  mean 

To  dote  thus  on  such  luggage?  Let's  alone, 

And  do  the  murder  first :  if  he  awake, 


\CT  FOUR  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

From  toe  to  crown  he'll  fill  our  skins  with  pinches, 

Make  us  strange  stuff. 
Stephano.   Be  you  quiet,   monster.     Mistress  line,    is  not  this 

my  jerkin?     Now    is    the   jerkin    under   the    line:    now, 

jerkin,  you  are  like  to  lose  your  hair,  and  prove  a    bald 

jerkin. 
Trinculo.   Do,  do :  we  steal  by  line  and  level,  an 't  like  your 

grace. 
Stephano.  I  thank  thee  for  that  jest;  here's  a  garment  for't: 

wit  shall    not    go    unrewarded   while    I    am    king  of  this 

country.      'Steal    by   line  and    level'  is  an  excellent  pass 

of  pate;  there's  another  garment  for't. 
Trinculo.   Monster,  come,  put    some    lime    upon  your  fingers, 

and  away  with  the  rest. 
Caliban.  I  will  have  none  on 't :  we  shall  lose  our  time. 

And  all  be  turn'd  to  barnacles,  or  to  apes 

With  foreheads  villanous  low. 
Stephano.    Monster,    lay-to    your    fingers:    help   to    bear  this 

away  where  my  hogshead  of  wine  is,  or  I  '11  turn  you  out 

of  my  kingdom :  go  to,  carry  this. 
Trinculo.  And  this. 
Stephano.  Ay,  and  this. 

[A  noise  of  hunters  heard.  Enter  divers  Spirits,  in 
shape  of  dogs  and  hounds,  hunting  them  about ; 
Prospero  and  Ariel  setting  them  on.] 

Prospero.   Hey,  Mountain,  hey! 

Ariel.  Silver!  there  it  goes.  Silver! 

Prospero.  Fury,  Fury!  there.  Tyrant,  there!  hark,  hark! 

[Caliban,  Stephano,  and  Trinculo  are  driven  out. 
Go  charge  my  goblins  that  they  grind  their  joints 
With  dry  convulsions;  shorten  up  their  sinews 
With  aged  cramps;  and  more  pinch-spotted  make  them 
Than  pard  or  cat  o'  mountain. 

Ariel.  Hark,  they  roar! 

Prospero.  Let  them  be  hunted  soundly.    At  this  hour 
Lie  at  my  mercy  all  mine  enemies: 
Shortly  shall  all  my  labours  end,  and  thou 
Shalt  have  the  air  at  freedom :  for  a  little 
Follow,  and  do  me  service.  [Exeunt. 

89 


ACT  FIVE 


SCENE  ONE 


Before  the  cell  of  Prospero. 

[Enter  Prospero  In  his  magic  robes, 
and  Ariel.] 

Prospero. 

jowdoes  my  project  gather  to  a  head: 

My  charms  crack  not;  my  spirits  obey;  and 
time 
Goes  upright  with  his  carriage.    How's  the  day? 
Ariel.  On  the  sixth  hour;  at  which  time,  my  lord, 

You  said  our  work  should  cease. 
Prospero.  I  did  say  so, 

92 


ACT  FIVE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

When  first  I  raised  the  tempest.    Say,  my  spirit, 
How  fares  the  king  and  's  followers? 

Ariel.  Confined  together 

In  the  same  fashion  as  you  gave  in  charge, 
Just  as  you  left  them ;  all  prisoners,  sir, 
In  the  line-grove  which  weather-fends  your  cell ; 
They  cannot  budge  till  your  release.    The  king, 
His  brother,  and  yours,  abide  all  three  distracted, 
And  the  remainder  mourning  over  them. 
Brimful  of  sorrow  and  dismay ;  but  chiefly 
Him   that  you  term'd,  sir,  *The  good  old  lord,  Gonzalo'; 
His  tears  run  down  his  beard,  like  winter's  drops 
From  eaves  of  reeds.     Your  charm  so  strongly  works  'em, 
That  if  you  now  beheld  them,  your  affections 
Would  become  tender, 

Prospero.  Dost  thou  think  so,  spirit? 

Ariel.  Mine  would,  sir,  were  I  human. 

Prospero.  And  mine  shall. 

Hast  thou,  which  art  but  air,  a  touch,  a  feeling 
Of  their  afflictions,  and  shall  not  myself, 
One  of  their  kind,  that  relish  all  as  sharply. 
Passion  as  they,  be  kindlier  moved  than  thou  art? 
Though  with  their  high  wrongs  I  am  struck  to  the  quick, 
Yet  with  my  nobler  reason  'gainst  my  fury 
Do  I  take  part:  the  rarer  action  is 
In  virtue  than  in  vengeance:  they  being  penitent, 
The  sole  drift  of  my  purpose  doth  extend 
Not  a  frown  further.    Go  release  them,  Ariel : 
My  charms  I  '11  break,  their  senses  I  '11  restore. 
And  they  shall  be  themselves. 

Ariel.  I'll  fetch  them,  sir.     [Exit. 

Prospero.    Ye    elves    of    hills,    brooks,    standing    lakes,    and 
groves ; 
And  ye  that  on  the  sands  with  printless  foot 
Do  chase  the  ebbing  Neptune,  and  do  fly  him 
When  he  comes  back;  you  demi-puppets  that 
By  moonshine  do  the  green  sour  ringlets  make. 
Whereof  the  ewe  not  bites ;  and  you  whose  pastime 
Is  to  make  midnight  mushrooms,  that  rejoice 
To  hear  the  solemn  curfew;  by  whose  aid — 
Weak  masters  though  ye  be— I  have  bedimm'd 

93 


ACT  FIVE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  c 

The  noontide  sun,  call'd  forth  the  mutinous  winds, 

And  'twixt  the  green  sea  and  the  azured  vault 

Set  roaring  war:  to  the  dread  rattling  thunder 

Have  I  given  fire,  and  rifted  Jove's  stout  oak 

With  his  own  bolt;  the  strong-based  promontory 

Have  I  made  shake,  and  by  the  spurs  pluck'd  up 

The  pine  and  cedar:  graves  at  my  command 

Have  waked  their  sleepers,  oped,  and  let  'em  forth 

By  my  so  potent  art.     But  this  rough  magic 

I  here  abjure;  and,  when  I  have  required 

Some  heavenly  music, — which  even  now  I  do, — 

To  work  mine  end  upon  their  senses,  that 

This  airy  charm  is  for,  I'll  break  my  staff, 

Bury  it  certain  fathoms  in  the  earth. 

And  deeper  than  did  ever  plummet  sound 

I'll  drown  my  book.  [Solemn  music, 

[Re-enter  Ariel  before:  then  Alonso,  with  a  frantic 
gesture,  attended  by  Gonzalo ;  Sebastian  and  Antonio 
in  nice  manner,  attended  by  Adrian  and  Francisco : 
ttiey  all  enter  the  circle  which  Prospero  had  made, 
and  there  stand  charmed;  which  Prospero  observing, 
speaks :] 

A  solemn  air,  and  the  best  comforter 
To  an  unsettled  fancy,  cure  thy  brains, 
Now  useless,  boil'd  within  thy  skull !    There  stand, 
For  you  are  spell-stopp'd. 
Holy  Gonzalo,  honourable  man, 
Mine  eyes,  even  sociable  to  the  show  of  thine. 
Fall  fellowly  drops.    The  charm  dissolves  apace; 
And  as  the  morning  steals  upon  the  night, 
Melting  the  darkness,  so  their  rising  senses 
Begin  to  chase  the  ignorant  fumes  that  mantle 
Their  clearer  reason.    O  good  Gonzalo, 
My  true  preserver,  and  a  loyal  sir 
To  him  thou  follow'st !    I  will  pay  thy  graces 
Home  both  in  word  and  deed.    Most  cruelly 
Didst  thou,  Alonso,  use  me  and  my  daughter: 
Thy  brother  was  a  furtherer  in  the  act. 
Thou  art  pinch'd  for't  now,  Sebastian.    Flesh  and  blood, 

94 


T  FIVE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

You,  brother  mine,  that  entertain'd  ambition, 

Expeird  remorse  and  nature ;  who,  with  Sebastian, — 

Whose  inward  pinches  therefore  are  most  strong-, — 

Would  here  have  killed  your  king ;   I  do  forgive  thee, 

Unnatural  though  thou  art.    Their  understanding 

Begins  to  swell ;  and  the  approaching  tide 

Will  shortly  fill  the  reasonable  shore, 

That  now  lies  foul  and  muddy.     Not  one  of  them 

That  yet  looks  on  me,  or  would  know  me :  Ariel, 

Fetch  me  the  hat  and  rapier  in  my  cell : 

I  will  disease  me,  and  myself  present 

As  I  was  sometime  Milan :  quickly,  spirit ; 

Thou  shalt  ere  long  be  free. 

[Ariel  sings  and  helps  to  attire  fiim.] 

Where  the  bee  sucks,  there  suck  I : 

In  a  cowslip's  bell  I  lie ; 

There  I  couch  when  owls  do  cry. 

On  the  bat's  back  I  do  fly 

After  summer  merrily. 

Merrily,  merrily  shall  I  live  now 

Under  the  blossom  that  hangs  on  the  bough. 

Prospero.  Why,  that's  my  dainty  Ariel!  I  shall  miss  thee; 

But  yet  thou  shalt  have  freedom :  so,  so,  so. 

To  the  king's  ship,  invisible  as  thou  art : 

There  shalt  thou  find  the  mariners  asleep 

Under  the  hatches;  the  master  and  the  boatswain 

Being  awake,  enforce  them  to  this  place. 

And  presently,  I  prithee. 
Ariel.  I  drink  the  air  before  me,  and  return 

Or  ere  your  pulse  twice  beat.  [Exit, 

Qonzalo.  All  torment,  trouble,  wonder  and  amazement 

Inhabits  here :  some  heavenly  power  guide  us 

Out  of  this  fearful  country  1 
Prospero.  Behold,  sir  king, 

The  wronged  Duke  of  Milan,  Prospero : 

For  more  assurance  that  a  living  prince 

Does  now  speak  to  thee,  I  embrace  thy  body; 

And  to  thee  and  thy  company  I  bid 

A  hearty  welcome. 

95 


ACT  FIVE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONI 

AJonso.  Whether  thou  be'st  he  or  no, 

Or  some  enchanted  trifle  to  abuse  me, 

As  late  I  have  been,  I  not  know :  thy  pulse 

Beats,  as  of  flesh  and  blood ;   and,  since  I  saw  thee, 

The  affliction  of  my  mind  amends,  with  which, 

I  fear  a  madness  held  me :  this  must  crave — 

An  if  this  be  at  all— a  most  strange  story. 

Thy  dukedom  I  resign,  and  do  entreat 

Thou  pardon  me  my  wrongs. — But  how  should  Prospero 

Be  living  and  be  here? 
Prospero.  First,  noble  friend, 

Let  me  embrace  thine  age,  whose  honour  cannot 

Be  measured  or  confined. 
Oonzalo.  Whether  this  be 

Or  be  not,  I'll  not  swear. 
Prospero.  You  do  yet  taste 

Some  subtleties  o'  the  isle,  that  will  not  let  you 

Believe  things  certain.    Welcome,  my  friends  all ! 

[Aside    to    Sebastian    and  Antonio"]    But  you,   my   brace   of 
lords,  were  I  so  minded, 

I  here  could  pluck  his  highness'  frown  upon  you, 

And  justify  you  traitors :  at  this  time 

I  will  tell  no  tales. 
Sebastian.  [Aside]  The  devil  speaks  in  him. 

Prospero.  No. 

For  you,  most  wicked  sir,  whom  to  call  brother 

Would  even  infect  my  mouth,  I  do  forgive 
"Thy  rankest  fault,— all  of  them ;  and  require 

My  dukedom  of  thee,  which  perforce,  I  know. 

Thou  must  restore. 
Alonso.  If  thou  be'st  Prospero, 

Give  us  particulars  of  thy  preservation ; 

How  thou  hast  met  us  here,  who  three  hours  since 

Were  wreck'd  upon  this  shore ;  where  I  have  lost — 

How  sharp  the  point  of  this  remembrance  is ! — 

My  dear  son  Ferdinand. 
Prospero.  I  am  woe  for't,  sir. 

Alonso.  Irreparable  is  the  loss;  and  patience 

Says  it  is  past  her  cure. 
Prospero.  I  rather  think 

You  have  not  sought  her  help,  of  whose  soft  grace 

96 


ACT  FIVE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


For  the  like  loss  I  have  her  sovereign  aid, 

And  rest  myself  content. 
Alonso.  You  the  like  loss! 

Prospero.  As  great  to  me  as  late;  and,  supportable 

To  make  the  dear  loss,  have  I  means  much  weaker 

Than  you  may  call  to  comfort  you,  for  I 

Have  lost  my  daughter. 
Alonso.  A  daughter? 

0  heavens,  that  they  v/ere  living  both  in  Naples, 
The  king  and  queen  there!  that  they  were  I  wish 
Myself  were  mudded  in  that  oozy  bed 

Where  my  son  lies.    When  did  you  lose  your  daughter? 
Prospero.  In  this  last  tempest.    I  perceive,  these  lords 
At  this  encounter  do  so  much  admire, 
That  they  devour  their  reason,  and  scarce  think 
Their  eyes  do  offices  of  truth,  their  words 
Are  natural  breath :  but,  howsoe'er  you  have 
Been  justled  from  your  senses,  know  for  certain 
That  I  am  Prospero,  and  that  very  duke 
Which  was  thrust  forth  of  Milan ;  who  most  strangely 
Upon  this  shore,  where  you  were  wreck'd,  was  landed, 
To  be  the  lord  on't      No  more  yet  of  this; 
For  'tis  a  chronicle  of  day  by  day. 
Not  a  relation  for  a  breakfast,  nor 
Befitting  this  first  meeting.     Welcome,  sir; 
This  cell's  my  court:  here  have  I  few  attendants, 
And  subjects  none  abroad:  pray  you,  look  in. 
My  dukedom  since  you  have  given  me  again, 

1  will  requite  you  with  as  good  a  thing; 

At  least  bring  forth  a  wonder,  to  content  ye 
As  much  as  me  my  dukedom. 


97 


ACT  FIVE  THE    TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

[Here  Prospero  discovers  Ferdinand  and  Miranda 
playing  at  cfiess.] 

Miranda.  Sweet  lord,  you  play  me  false. 

Ferdinand.  No,  my  dear'st  love, 

I  would  not  for  the  world. 
Miranda.  Yes,  for  a  score  of  kingdoms  you  should  wrangle 

And  I  would  call  it  fair  play. 
Alonso.  If  this  prove 

A  vision  of  the  island,  one  dear  son 

Shall  I  twice  lose. 
Sebastian.  A  most  high  miracle  ! 

Ferdinand.  Though  the  seas  threaten,  they  are  merciful; 

I  have  cursed  them  without  cause.  [Kneels. 

Alonso.  Now  all  the  blessings 

Of  a  glad  father  compass  thee  about ! 

Arise,  and  say  how  thou  earnest  here. 
Miranda.  O,  wonder! 

How  many  goodly  creatures  are  there  here! 

How  beauteous  mankind  is !    O  brave  new  world, 

That  has  such  people  in't! 
Prospero.  'Tis  new  to  thee. 

Alonso.  What  is  this  maid  with  whom  thou  wast  at  play? 

Your  eld'st  acquaintance  cannot  be  three  hours: 

Is  she  the  goddess  that  hath  sever'd  us. 

And  brought  us  thus  together? 
Ferdinand.  Sir,  she  is  mortal ; 

But  by  immortal  Providence  she 's  mine : 

I  chose  her  when  I  could  not  ask  my  father 

For  his  advice,  nor  thought  I  had  one.      She 

Is  daughter  to  this  famous  Duke  of  Milan, 

Of  whom  so  often  I  have  heard  renown, 

But  never  saw  before ;  of  whom  I  have 

Received  a  second  life;  and  second  father 

This  lady  makes  him  to  me. 
Alonso.  I  am  hers  : 

But,  0,  how  oddly  will  it  sound  that  I 

Must  ask  my  child  forgiveness! 
Prospero.  There,  sir,  stop: 

Let  us  not  burthen  our  remembrances  with 

A  heaviness  that's  gone, 

99 


ACT  FIVE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  one 

Gonzalo.  I  have  inly  wept, 

Or  should  have  spoke  ere  this.      Look  down,  you  gods, 

And  on  this  couple  drop  a  blessed  crown! 

For  it  is  you  that  have  chalk'd  forth  the  way 

Which  brought  us  hither. 
Alonso.  I  say,  Amen,  Gonzalo ! 

Gonzalo.  "Was  Milan  thrust  from  Milan,  that  his  issue 

Should  become  kings  of  Naples  ?     O,  rejoice 

Beyond  a  common  joy !  and  set  it  down 

With  gold  on  lasting  pillars:  In  one  voyage 

Did  Claribel  her  husband  find  at  Tunis, 

And  Ferdinand,  her  brother,  found  a  wife 

Where  he  himself  was  lost,  Prospero  his  dukedom 

In  a  poor  isle,  and  all  of  us  ourselves 

When  no  man  was  his  own. 
Alonso.  [To  Ferdinand  and  Miranda']   Give  me  your  hands: 

Let  grief  and  sorrow  still  embrace  his  heart 

That  doth  not  wish  you  joy ! 
Gonzalo.  Be  it  so !     Amen  ! 

[RC'cnter  Ariel,  with  the  Master  and  Boatswain 
amazedly  following.] 

O,  look,  sir,  look,  sir !  here  is  more  of  us : 

I  prophesied,  if  a  gallows  were  on  land, 

This  fellow  could  not  drown.    Now,  blasphemy, 

That  swear'st  grace  o'erboard,  not  an  oath  on  shore? 

Hast  thou  no  mouth  by  land?    What  is  the  news? 
Boatswain.  The  best  news  is,  that  we  have  safely  found 

Our  king  and  company ;  the  next,  our  ship — 

Which,  but  three  glasses  since,  we  gave  out  split — 

Is  tight  and  yare  and  bravely  rigg'd  as  when 

We  first  put  out  to  sea 
Ariel.        [Aside  to  Prospero]  Sir,  all  this  service 

Have  I  done  since  I  went. 
Prospero.  [Aside  to  Ariel]  My  tricksy  spirit! 

Alonso.  These  are  not  natural  events;  they  strengthen 

From  strange  to  stranger.      Say,  how  came  you  hither? 
Boatswain.  If  I  did  think,  sir,  I  were  well  awake, 

I  *ld  strive  to  tell  you.      We  were  dead  of  sleep. 

And— how  we  know  not — all  dapp'd  under  hatches ; 

100 


I 


ACT  FIVE 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Where,  but  even  now,  with  strange  and  several  noises 

Of  roaring,  shrieking,  howling,  jingling  chains, 

And  mo  diversity  of  sounds,  all  horrible, 

We  were  awaked;  straightway,  at  liberty; 

Where  we,  in  all  her  trim,  freshly  beheld 

Our  royal,  good,  and  gallant  ship;  our  master 

Capering  to  eye  her:— on  a  trice,  so  please  you, 


Even  in  a  dream,  were  we  divided  from  them. 

And  were  brought  moping  hither. 
Ariel.  {Aside  to  Prospero]    Was't  well  done? 

Prospero.   [Aside  to  Ariel]  Bravely,  my  diligence.     Thou  shalt 

be  free. 
Alonso.  This  is  as  strange  a  maze  as  e'er  men  trod ; 

And  there  is  in  this  business  more  than  nature 

Was  ever  conduct  of:  some  oracle 

Must'  rectify  our  knowledge. 
Prospero.  Sir,  my  liege. 

Do  not  infest  your  mind  with  beating  on 

The  strangeness  of  this  business ;  at  pick'd  leisure 
G  2  loi 


ACT  FIVE  THE   TEMPEST  SCENE  ONE 

Which  shall  be  shortly,  single  I  '11  resolve  you 

Which  to  you  shall  seem  probable,  of  every 

These  happen'd  accidents;  till  when,  be  cheerful, 

And    think   of  each    thing   well.      [Aside    to    Ariel]    Come 

hither,  spirit : 
Set  Caliban  and  his  companions  free ; 
Untie   the    spell.    [Exit   Ariel.]     How    fares    my  gracious 

sir? 
There  are  yet  missing  of  your  company 
Some  few  odd  lads  that  you  remember  not. 


[Re-enter  Ariel,  driving  in  Caliban,  Stephano,  and 
Trinculo,  in  their  stolen  apparel.] 

Stephano.  Every  man  shift  for  all  the  rest,  and  let  no  man 
take  care  for  himself;  for  all  is  but  fortune. — Coragio, 
bully-monster,  coragio  ! 

Trinculo.  If  these  be  true  spies  which  I  wear  in  my  head, 
here's  a  goodly  sight. 

Caliban.    O  Setebos,  these  be  brave  spirits  indeed! 
How  fine  my  master  is !     I  am  afraid 
He  will  chastise  me. 

Sebastian.  Ha,  ha ! 

What  things  are  these,  my  lord  Antonio  ? 
Will  money  buy  'em? 

Antonio.  Very  like ;  one  of  them 

Is  a  plain  fish,  and,  no  doubt,  marketable. 

Prospero.  Mark  but  the  badges  of  these  men,  my  lords, 
Then  say  if  they  be  true.     This  mis-shapen  knave, 
His  mother  was  a  witch ;  and  one  so  strong 
That  could  control  the  moon,  make  flows  and  ebbs, 
And  deal  in  her  command,  without  her  power. 
These  three  have  robb'd  me ;  and  this  demi-devil — 
For  he's  a  bastard  one — had  plotted  with  them 
To  take  my  life.     Two  of  these  fellows  you 
Must  know  and  own ;  this  thing  of  darkness  I 
Acknowledge  mine. 

Caliban.  I  shall  be  pinch'd  to  death. 

Alonso.   Is  not  this  Stephano,  my  drunken  butler? 

102 


ACT  FIVE  THE  TEMPEST  scene  one 

Sebastian.  He  is  drunk  now:  where  had  he  wine? 
Alonso.  And  Trinculo  is  reeling  ripe :  where  should  they 
Find  this  grand  liquor  that  hath  gilded  'em?— 

How  earnest  thou  in  this  pickle? 
Trinculo.  I  have  been  in  such  a  pickle,  since  I  saw  you  last, 
that,  I  fear  me,  will  never  out  of  my  bones:    I  shall  not 
fear  fly-blowing. 
Sebastian.  "Why,  how  now,  Stephano ! 

Stephana.  O,  touch  me  not ;— I  am  not  Stephano,  but  a  cramp. 
Prospero.  You 'Id  be  king  o'  the  isle,  sirrah? 
Stephano.  I  should  have  been  a  sore  one,  then. 
Alonso.  This  is  a  strange  thing  as  e'er  I  look'd  on. 

[Pointing  to  Caliban. 
Prospero.  He  is  as  disproportion'd  in  his  manners 

As  in  his  shape.      Go,  sirrah,  to  my  cell ; 

Take  with  you  your  companions ;  as  you  look 

To  have  my  pardon,  trim  it  handsomely. 
Caliban.  Ay,  that  I  will ;  and  I  '11  be  wise  hereafter, 

And  seek  for  grace.     What  a  thrice-double  ass 

Was  I,  to  take  this  drunkard  for  a  god. 

And  worship  this  dull  fool! 
Prospero.  Go  to  ;  away ! 

Alonso.    Hence,  and  bestow   your  luggage   where   you    found 

it. 
Sebastian.  Or  stole  it,  rather. 

[Exeunt  Caliban,  Stephano,  and  Trinculo. 
Prospero.  Sir,  I  invite  your  Highness  and  your  train 

To  my  poor  cell,  where  you  shall  take  your  rest 

For  this  one  night ;  which,  part  of  it,  I  '11  waste 

With  such  discourse  as,  I  not  doubt,  shall  make  it 

Go  quick  away :  the  story  of  my  life, 

And  the  particular  accidents  gone  by 

Since  I  came  to  this  isle:  and  in  the  morn 

I'll  bring  you  to  your  ship,  and  so  to  Naples, 

Where  I  have  hope  to  see  the  nuptial 

Of  these  our  dear-beloved  solemnised ; 

And  thence  retire  me  to  my  Milan,  where 

Every  third  thought  shall  be  my  grave. 
Alonso.  I  long 

To  hear  the  story  of  your  life,  which  must 

Take  the  ear  strangely. 

104 


THE  TEMPEST 


SCENE  ONE 


Prosperv.  I'll  deliver  all; 

And  promise  you  calm  seas,  auspicious  gales, 

And  sail  so  expeditious,  that  shall  catch 

Your  royal  fleet  far  off.     [Aside  to  Ariel]  Ny  Ariel,  chick, 

That  is  thy  charge:  then  to  the  elements 

Be  free,  and  fare  thou  well!      Please  you,  draw  near. 

\Exeunt. 


ly^i^ 


105 


EPILOGUE 

[Spoken  by  Prospero.] 

Now  my  charms  are  all  o'erthrown, 
And  what  strength  I  have's  mine  own, 
Which  is  most  faint:  now,  'tis  true, 
I  must  be  here  confined  by  you, 
Or  sent  to  Naples.     Let  me  not, 
Since  I  have  my  dukedom  got. 
And  pardon'd  the  deceiver,  dwell 
In  this  bare  island  by  your  spell; 
But  release  me  from  my  bands 
With  the  help  of  your  good  hands : 
Gentle  breath  of  yours  my  sails 
Must  fill,  or  else  my  project  fails, 
Which  was  to  please.     Now  I  want 
Spirits  to  enforce,  art  to  enchant; 
And  my  ending  is  despair, 
Unless  I  be  relieved  by  prayer. 
Which  pierces  so,  that  it  assaults 
Mercy  itself,  and  frees  all  faults. 
As  you  from  crimes  would  pardon'd  be, 
Let  your  indulgence  set  me  free. 


io6 


EDINBURGH 

T.  AND  A.   CONSTABLE 

Printers  to  Her  late  Majesty 


I 


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The   tempest 


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